


Dead by Drabbles

by QueenEvaine



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I'll add more as necessary, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 128
Words: 117,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenEvaine/pseuds/QueenEvaine
Summary: A collection of various stories, ranging from close relationships to general events.





	1. Lucky Day

Ace was usually a very lucky man. He was always able to find just what he needed in a chest, whether it be a medkit, a toolbox, even a key if the situation was dire. He always knew that he’d survive any situation, he had gotten far through gambling, risking everything. So much so, that he was nearly banned from several casinos on accusations of cheating. Usually, sweet words in the right ear alleviated that issue. Plenty of times he was called a scoundrel, to which he responded with a shrug and classic smirk. He was undeniably blessed, perhaps undeservedly so, but he took advantage of every stroke of luck that came his way. He relied on it now. 

So when he was left without it, he suffered. Chests held nothing of real value, maps and broken keys, flashlights just about to run out of battery, and medkits with just barely insufficient bandages. All his risks were coming up fruitless, and he already had more than several run-ins with the Killer of this trial, the Hag. He seemed to run into every trap she set down, and taken too many scratches to count. Dwight, Quentin, and Bill had patched him up countless times in the trial, which was taking far too long. Her hexes meant they couldn’t work on generators, and she defended them viciously. Between unhooking and trying to track down the totems, little got done. 

Ace had to at least get the Ruin totem, that way generators didn’t take ages. He walked quietly with the small grin on his face, firmly believing that despite everything, he would be able to find it. Sure enough, the small flicker caught his eye, and he began working on cleansing the totem. And he hadn’t alerted any traps, no jumping phantasm to scare him this time. He prayed that he would be lucky once more, and manage to take out the Ruin Hex. He had to be, if he wanted to survive. 

His luck ran short. The hex he had destroyed was The Third Seal, but at least he could sense his fellow survivors again, just in time to help Dwight unhook Quentin. His heartbeat began racing, and he knew he had to go. The Hag would not be happy about losing a totem. She had to be using the three she knew, and Ace did not want to deal with a very pissed off Hag with Devour Hope active. 

He jumped at the sudden screech. Shit. Of course he’d run into a trap now. The phantasm sprang to life, chasing close behind him. He could see the red stain on the ground around him, and nothing to jump over. The pallets had been used in a sprint of desperation earlier. The claws sliced through his lower leg. He fell to the ground unceremoniously, trying to stifle the bleeding of his right leg. It seemed to pierce to the very bone, or so it felt to Ace. The distorted, emaciated figure of the Hag crept closer, growling with rage. Okay, maybe he had beaten her seven too many times by sheer luck, and she was clearly bitter. 

Ace backed away from the disfigured cannibal, dragging himself backwards with his upper body. He had to keep his attention on her, whether he wanted to or not. He panted with a small grin on his face. This would end well, it had to. Luck always had his back in the end. Of course, that only served to stoke the fires of the Hag’s rage. Claws sunk into his left thigh, and he cried out in pain. The next strike landed on his stomach, pinning him on his back. He let out a scream louder than he thought possible. Claws retracted as Ace lay still, unable to move without a sheer amount of pain. Another strike never came, and he quietly counted his blessings from Lady Luck. 

Instead, he heard a garbled screech, and the hiss of the Hag as she chased something. She would undoubtedly come back, but he’d have something up his sleeve then. He decided to lay as still as he could, and when the Hag came back, he’d play dead. There was no purpose in hooking someone who was already gone. 

It didn’t take long for the mangled witch to return, a being fervently determined to tear Ace to shreds. He held his breath, sure this would work. He could feel the Hag’s breath as she leaned in to determine if he was still alive. He felt the claws sink into his cheeks, and he struggled to hide the wince of pain. She stared intently at Ace’s face, who struggled to keep himself relaxed in the Killer’s grip. 

She’s going to kill me and eat me. The thought briefly came to his mind, and he had to chase it away. He could continue playing dead, and she would lose interest. It would work right just fine. Right? He was starting to get light headed from holding his breath. Suddenly, the Hag released her grip. The back of his head smacked into the muddy ground, but he couldn’t breathe just yet. Was she still looming over him? He was going to pass out if he kept holding his breath. 

He released the shaky breath he was holding, heart still pounding. Was he hearing footsteps, or was that just his mind playing tricks on him after oxygen deprivation? He was lifted from the ground and over someone’s shoulders. He didn’t think it was the Hag, she never tended to carry survivors over both shoulders. His body ached, and it sunk in just how lucky it was to be carried by one of his friends. He could hear voices talking, but couldn’t make it who they were even as his heartbeat slowed. 

Loud, grating metal scraped against itself, and he knew that was the exit gate. When did the generators come online? He was set down against the wall just outside the gate. He had to keep his eyes closed in order to not see the world spinning around him. How much blood did he lose in just a few minutes? He felt pressure on his stomach, pushing him against the brick. He couldn’t help a strangled cry, sounding more like a pathetic whimper. He opened his eyes, vision blurry behind the tinted sunglasses. But, he could always recognize the old soldier, Bill. The man almost always had a cigarette in his mouth, whether it was lit or not. 

He could hear the soldier speaking, but the words were lost on him. His heartbeat started racing, and Bill looked over to the gate. The soldier shook his head, lifting Ace up again and running into the fog. Bill slowed down from a sprint, and eventually stopped. Ace was set down on his back, letting his head roll back. It still pounded, but Ace couldn’t help but start laughing. It was weak and strained, and most definitely would earn him some concerned looks. Despite all the Entity’s attempts to screw him over, he still lucked out and survived.  
His laughs turned into a cry as a sharp stinging came into contact with his stomach, combined with tough pressure. His sunglasses lifted off his face, Claudette looking down at him with concern. He was lifted to sit against a log, letting his head hang as he was tended to. He felt bandages wrap around his stomach, seeing the blurry hands of Bill and Claudette wrap his injuries and stifle the bleeding. His head slowly stopped pounding, enough that he could actually hear the crackles of the campfire and his own thinking. 

“Fuckin’ out of his damn mind..” Bill muttered. Okay, Ace wasn’t that surprised that was the first thing he heard, especially from the soldier. He grinned in his usual, trademark way. 

“Just lucky as always.”

Bill groaned, tying the bandages a bit too tight around Ace’s stomach. “Keep your mouth shut. Tryin’ to save your damn life here, don’t make me regret it.” 

Ace winced. Okay, point taken. He let his head fall back. Now that he was able to relax, he keenly realized just how much his body hurt. He couldn’t help the twitch of his leg and scream as antiseptic touched the scratches on his thigh.

“Sorry, don’t want it getting infected.” Claudette apologized. Ace liked her company, always sweet and able to patch up their wounds. She cared immensely, and was just as intelligent. Ace tended to give her good flashlights, to help her get away from the killers and take care of herself and the others the way she knew best. He just waved a hand, opting not to speak. The exhaustion of the trial was starting to catch up. 

He stared up at the sky, the dark expanse of what could be clouds. He bit his lip as his lower leg was treated, and both scratches were bandaged up. There was no doubt he was going to be sore for awhile. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. That was going to be painful for a bit, too. 

“The fuck were you thinkin’? Running from all of us towards the damn lunatic with a claws for fingers? You have a deathwish?” 

Bill’s gruff voice interrupted the little rest Ace was trying to get. He opened his eyes, head lolling to the side as he looked to give an answer. 

“Was looking for the Ruin.” 

The soldier shook his head. “Doesn’t do much if you end up in several pieces, god damn idiot.”

Ace just grinned. 

“You bring up any horseshit about ‘luck’ and I’m walkin’ away.”  
Bill sat against the log, about a foot away from Ace. 

“Well, what else can I say? Still lucky that you decided to come back for me. Thanks.” 

Bill shook his head, lighting his cigarette. “Yeah yeah, call it luck all you want. Just don’t go lookin’ for another deathwish. I’m not gonna enjoy picking your ass up again.” 

Ace laughed under his breath, letting his eyes close again to get some rest.


	2. No Nightmares Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has a nightmare, and Quentin never has any patience for them.

Often times, the campfire gatherings were loud. The survivors had to get to know each other sooner or later, had to place their trust in each other in order to survive the trials. Dwight tended to be shy about his words, he was used to staying on the sides, avoiding trouble in hallways and staying away from more outgoing and loud types, like Meg. She, on the contrast, poured any unspent energy from running into conversation. It was a better alternative to rebellion in a fight for survival, and much time had passed since Meg was the rowdy, uncontrollable hurricane of wild energy. Claudette was intelligent, clearly passionate about botany and her joy for it was heartwarming. While Jake was quiet, he didn’t stay that way out of disdain, he simply was used to living alone. Often times, his additions made everyone appreciate his presence, either because they were howling in laughter, or were comforted by the survivalist’s words. 

Nea was rebellious, but a lifetime of sneaking around vandalizing walls with her graffiti and evading danger was admirable. Bill was gruff, and had a strong tendency to curse and come off as a grumpy old man, but he was a reliable and irreplaceable teammate. The same went for Laurie, a otherwise standard teen, except for the fact that she knew how to evade and even fight a killer far too well than someone her age should. David knew his way around a fight, and would risk everything to help his team. Ace was a surprisingly uplifting guy to be around, never letting things get him down. Even Feng Min, as determined to ‘win’ as anyone could possibly be, would chat with the others, even if it was heavily tied to bragging about how well she was doing. 

Quentin enjoyed their company. Being in a realm of non-stop scrapes to survive against killers, including the demon he was used to, was a strange new experience he had to quickly adapt to. But, he couldn’t leave the people here that needed his help. There were ways he related to most of the other survivors, sometimes in obvious ways as with Dwight, and other times in more concerning ways, as with Laurie. He did what he could to help them all out, and in turn, they would often go to great lengths to help him. 

The ragtag group of survivors was becoming very close, as they often spent nights talking and making what fun they could before being sent off to another trial. 

Tonight, the campfire was quiet. Two trials were occurring at the same time, leaving Quentin, David, and Nea to catch up on sleep or busy themselves with whatever else needed to be done. The other two decided to sleep while Quentin stayed close to the fire. He was too used to not sleeping much to start sleeping a normal schedule now. Even just huddling close to the warmth was enough rest for him, a break from constant running from his life and a chance to just be silent, watching the flames dance. 

“Mm..” 

Quentin’s attention spun around. Nea was still sleeping soundly, while David had stirred. His attention stayed on the scrapper. Was it just a normal, harmless dream, or did Freddy’s influence somehow reach here too? He got up to scoot against the log, unable to avoid the sinking pit in his stomach. David looked more relaxed than he did when he was awake, besides the slight frown on his face. Something was bothering him, and it was getting worse by the second as the frown deepened. He seemed more agitated than distressed, but that seemed to be the norm for David. 

Quentin shook his arm. “David, wake up.” 

No response. 

“David! Wake up already!” 

Quentin shook David’s arm again, rougher and more frantic. Either David was a very deep sleeper, or there was something else at work, and Quentin tended to go with the latter based on experience. 

“David! David, wake up!”

Quentin’s frantic shouting woke Nea, who rubbed her eyes with a groan. 

“Quentin, the fuck man?” She dumbly sat up, attention turning to where Quentin’s gaze was. She let her head roll back and groaned, then stood up. 

“Alright, step back, I got this.” 

Quentin backed up a bit to let Nea walk up, loom over David’s face and shout at the top of her lungs. 

“HEY ASSHOLE, WAKE UP ALREADY! QUIT BEING A LAZY FUCK!” 

David's eyes opened with a brief jolt, then held an expression of typical annoyance. 

“Th’fucks your problem, mate? I thought we got past the stage of bein’ a pain in the arse to everyone ‘round you?” 

Nea shrugged, waving to Quentin. 

“Should ask him that. He woke me up trying to wake you up.”

David groaned, looking over to a worried Quentin. 

“Alright kid, what's got you riled up?” 

Quentin let out a small sigh of relief. He seemed perfectly okay, no cuts or injuries. Then he felt a bit of regret, having woken up the other two because of his fear. But, better to be safe than lose a friend, right?

“Kid, your silence isn't helpin’ your case. Who do I have to lamp till they can't see straight?” 

Quentin shook his head. He knew David would probably follow through on that, to the best of his ability.

“No one, I just thought.. You looked like you were having a nightmare, so I wanted to wake you up.” 

David blinked, sitting up. He then shook his head. 

“I'm alright, just a dream. No mangled freak in a shitty sweater is gonna be able to show me anythin’ but a fuckin’record time of getting their arse handed to ‘em.”

Quentin couldn't help the small, sad grin. David was dead serious, but he knew Freddy too well to believe David would come out unscathed. 

“Still. Sorry about waking you up.” 

David shook his head again. 

“Don't worry yourself about it. Can't be mad at ya for tryin’ to help, can I, kid?” 

David stretched, yawning after a delay. Quentin, ultimately, was relieved that nothing was actually wrong. 

“If you two are fine, I'm going back to sleep.” Nea called from across the fire. Quentin nodded, while David called back.

“Just you wait, shit’ead, I'm getting revenge.”

Nea just scoffed. 

“You'd have to catch me first, old-timer.” 

“You wanna ‘ave a go?” 

Nea lay on her back, waving her hand.

“Later, when your bones aren't rusty.” She let her hand fall, the other arm behind her head. David muttered something under his breath about ‘teaching a brat a lesson’ but did so with a small grin. Normal teasing between the two of them. 

Quentin sat quietly, listening to their banter. It always seemed they hated each other, but that couldn't be more wrong. They were good friends, even if they were a bit rough around the edges. Maybe that's why they got along so well, he wondered. 

“Really though, kid. No fuck is gettin’ the best of me tonight. Just had a simple bad dream, no demon involved.” 

Quentin slowly nodded his head. The idea of any bad dream made him uneasy, he knew how quickly it could change to something dangerous. He was also surprised; what would David possibly have a natural nightmare about? Of course, the look in Quentin's face couldn't escape David's notice. 

“I've told you ‘bout my lil brother, yeah? Every now ‘n then I get that back in my ‘ead.” 

Oh. 

“Shit’s in the past now, can't be mithered to bitch and whine. Shit won't happen again.” 

Quentin sat in silence. He figured David didn't ever have issues with the past, he never seemed like he did. But, appearances aren't everything. He didn't look impressive himself, but still could outwit a killer after him. David patted his shoulder. 

“Shit doesn't bother me, kid. I make up for it protecting you and all the other people here. Even if some shits aren't grateful.” He gave a half-asleep Nea a pointed glare, who responded with a simple middle finger. 

Quentin laughed, his worries at least somewhat eased. A wide, shit-eating grin spread on David's face. 

“C’mere you! Think you can make me all sappy, ‘ave at it!” 

Without warning, David held Quentin in a playful headlock to rough up his hair. 

“Hey, quit it!” 

Both were playful, teasing each other in the downtime they had left. After his hair was more like a bush, David released Quentin from his grip. The treeline rustled, as Ace, Bill, Jake, and Claudette returned. David gave Quentin a light, reassuring pat on the back before standing up and walking over to the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This does take place after the previous fic, 'Not This Time'.


	3. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to 'A New Killer'. Dwight is not doing great.

Dwight didn't know what to do with himself anymore. Too many times he had risked his life for his fellows, for them to leave him behind to the Entity. They would act on their own and get into trouble, and he would be thanked for saving them from their mistakes with another trip to the Entity. He was sorely missing David's presence, a stalwart friend-no, love- that had already turned to the Entity’s side. David would be livid to know what the other survivors were doing now. 

Dwight wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up into himself and be alone, to let everything out. He had wanted nothing more than to help his friends escape alive, but they took that all for granted. Instead he walked forward, numb, to another trial. David's offer rung in his ears. Would he still accept? How long has it been since he even offered? The words of the others fell deaf on his ears. He knew they didn't care about him, they wanted to use him to survive. That was the norm, now. The fog closed in, and he lost sight of the others. Then, the fog cleared some, and he was back in the Alley Streets, as David's home turf came to be called. He wanted to hope to see David again, but what would it matter? 

It was all a routine. Fix generators, run from killer, save a teammate, be hooked, and repeat if they saved him. If. He lately cut out ‘save a teammate’ from that routine. He tended to live longer that way. He heard a scream down the streets. Who was he even in a trial with? It didn't matter, they were all the same to him. How they treated him. He let out a sigh, continuing his repairs. When it turned on, he moved on to another. Another scream, followed by another shortly after. Seems it wasn't going well for his team. 

Another generator was done by the time Dwight bothered to pay attention to his team. He had tuned out their cries for help. He heard the storming of a chase, and promptly turned the other away. Avoid the killer, do the objective. What were the others doing? Getting killed. He got halfway through the third generator when his heart began racing. His team was probably all dead by now. He stood from the generator and calmly walked away, moreso stoic from a lack of emotions entirely rather than any sense of confidence. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are..” 

A deep voice seemed to sing with glee. Dwight wanted to shrink into himself and vanish. The last person he wanted to meet up with was David. How would he even begin explaining himself? How could he face anything when he was such a mess? 

His heartbeat raced, but he didn't have the energy to run. So be it. Kill me and we’ll start again another time. He turned a corner and was met by a toothy grin. 

“Been a while, ‘asn't it?” 

Dwight just shrugged. He didn't even have the energy to talk anymore. The grin fell off David's face.

“Sweet’eart. It pisses me off seein’ you so lonely. Your shitbag ‘friends’ don't treat you right. At all. Kept screaming and crying for you to help ‘em, and cursed you out when ya didn't. You sure you don't wanna come with me?” 

Dwight stood still, almost in shock. They really did only like him around for him to save them. It took everything within him to avoid sinking to his knees. He took a deep, shaky breath. He wouldn't cry, not now, not today. His body had other plans, as tears streamed down his face. When David extended his arms around him, Dwight buried his face in the furry pelt on David's shoulders. 

“S’alright, sweet’eart. No one's hurtin’ you anymore. I'll beat the shit outta them so much they won’t ‘ave any bones left. Promise.” 

The Entity’s limbs descended from the sky, wrapping close around the two. David lifted Dwight to carry him close to his chest, walking somewhere unafraid. Dwight let himself stay in the warmth of the fur. He felt the limbs of the Entity move around, almost angrily. David's voice was rough, but soothing to him.

“Fuck off, he's mine. Not any toy o’ yours.” 

The limbs suddenly vanished. Dwight hugged his arms around David’s neck and had his legs wrapped around his waist. The gentle patting on his back was the greatest comfort he had had in ages. Who knows how long it had been since he had been given any sign of affection? He felt numb from the pain of its absence. He didn’t have the energy to reject now, he was so, soo tired.

“No need t’cry, sweet’eart. I gotcha.” 

Exhaustion finally set in for Dwight, and he found himself falling asleep with his face buried in David’s chest. 

When Dwight woke up, he was still in David’s arms, but David wasn’t walking anywhere. David’s arms were wrapped around him, and he was laying on top of the other. He didn’t feel quite so.. Small, anymore. He looked down at himself and noticed he was much bigger. His hands were more like claws, dark and shadowy. Not as long as the Hag’s, but glinting with a sharpness that suggested it would tear anything to shreds, almost like a cat’s. The realization set in. Of course I’m a Killer now. But, at the same time, it didn’t matter. He turned his back on the other survivors a long time ago. He always thought becoming a Killer would be painful, excruciatingly so, as punishment for all the times he escaped. He probably had David to thank for it not being the case. 

He looked around the room. It was an actual room, with a nice floor and a physical door. He was elevated off the floor, not just because of David, but because he was on an actual bed. He could easily forget he was in the Entity’s realm, and not a strange part of a town. David slowly opened his eyes. 

“Somethin’ bothering you?” 

Dwight just shook his head. How could anything bother him? An actual dry, safe place to sleep, with someone he loves and no fear of the future? What else could he even ask for? The laugh was more like a rumble from David’s chest. 

“Good. No more bullshit from ungrateful twats, yeah?” 

Dwight couldn’t help but laugh. David cared in an unabashed, blunt way, and Dwight loved every bit of it. 

“I’m never gonna make ya, but there’s always a trial to get some revenge on the selfish pricks, too.” 

That was an idea, to use his newfound abilities to make the others suffer for treating him so terribly. He was so used to hiding, and running from threats, but now, he could actually get revenge. He let out a hum. 

“Later. I missed you too much.” 

“Hah, I missed you too, sweet’eart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on a roll with these. It's gonna be interesting. I'm always open to requests on my tumblr!


	4. Quietly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake is determined to protect what's important to him.

Jake was never the type of person to enjoy the company of other people. His father urged to go follow in his brother’s footsteps, to become a well known, and rather rich individual. He had known from the start he didn’t want anything like that. So, his life became living in the woods, surviving on his own, and every once in awhile getting a call from his mother. He didn’t talk to his brother or father anymore. When he came into the Entity’s realm, not much changed. Besides, the fact, he now had to deal with people on a daily basis, for survival in constant trials. The others knew little of him, and he tended to like keeping it that way. 

The others talked so much. Dwight tended to ramble with nervous energy, and Meg just talked. Claudette too, but she talked about her knowledge of botany. Good lord, she knew so much about plants. Even if he didn’t respond, he liked hearing her talk. He didn’t get that kind of education of the plant life, and usually, he learned something new about the plants that surrounded his forest home. He just wasn’t a talker, really. But then again, he noticed plenty of times where Claudette opted to stay quiet, or go investigate plant life around them. 

His time in the trials was spent sabotaging hooks, and helping his fellow survivors. Usually, sabotaging the hooks meant a very angry killer, and he hardly ever escaped a trial without new injuries. That was fine, he was used to pain. And Claudette always patched him up. He made a quiet vow to himself to make sure to keep the Killers off her. He really enjoyed her company. He didn’t want to lose that. He often shot vitriolic glares to people who left her to die. 

He didn’t have time to think as he was sent to another trial. Taking a deep breath, he let the fog close in, then fade away to reveal the Blood Lodge. He didn’t hesitate in getting to work on the nearest hook. He liked making the area safer before working on generators. The Lodge was too quiet. The hook fell harmlessly to the ground, then he started working on the generator. His heartbeat was faint, but the Killer was somewhere in the vicinity. 

He heard a scream. Claudette. He immediately got off the generator and headed towards where he heard it. He heard another scream, but he didn’t sense her aura. Doctor, then. He hated the Doctor. A Killer capable of making him lose his composure, because his mind was breaking down. He snapped a twig off a tree, hoping to get the Doctor’s attention. The Doctor didn’t even flinch. Fucker. He ran after them, determined to get the lunatic off Claudette. She screamed again, then in pain as the spiked mace collided with her side. 

“Hey! Leave her alone!” 

He wanted to get the Doctor’s attention, and that’s exactly what he got. The Doctor spun around, holding his mace down at his side and sending a surge of electricity towards Jake. Being electrocuted in a trial was a terrible sensation, one that caused his muscles to tense and his mind to unhinge, just a little bit more. He didn’t mind too much, if it was for a good cause. Images of the Doctor’s face spotted his vision, and he let out another scream with another convulsion of muscles. Now I just need to lose him. 

He ran to the nearest mess of walls and pallets, hoping to delay the Killer enough to make him go away and check on the generators. Another shock, and he ran for his life as best as he could. He leaped through a window, keeping his attention on the Doctor. His appearance was terrifying and unsettling, but he could keep himself calm. Mostly. The Doctor this time was determined, tearing the pallets apart when Jake used them. The sick laughter every time he was hit with one was also unsettling. 

He stayed near the window, ready to jump over when a shock ran through his body, and then the mace came slamming into his stomach. He ran around it, heart racing. Not good. He lifted the scarf around his neck and bit down, stifling his whimpers of pain. He felt another surge of electricity, and screamed through the scarf. He ran up to the pallet, arms not responding well enough to pull it down. The mace tore into his back with enough force to slam him to the ground. He winced, holding onto the scarf with his teeth. He heard footsteps, lighter ones, run up. 

“Over here!” 

Meg. She clicked on a flashlight and shined it into the Doctor’s eyes, who was none too pleased and started chasing her off. He struggled to catch his breath, arms shaking as he tried to stand up. 

“Don’t push yourself, I’ll help you.” 

Claudette’s voice was a relief. She gently treated his back, then his side as their heartbeats slowed. Jake nodded in thanks, taking the scarf out of his mouth. 

“I should be thanking you. You really helped me out back there.” 

He shook his head. 

“Don’t mention it. Let’s get a generator running.” 

They already had one down, thanks to the teamwork of Meg and Nea. He lead Claudette over to the generator he sabotaged the hook near, the static fading from his mind. He was more composed now, at least. Meg and Nea were a great team, always able to juggle a Killer’s attention and keep each other safe. The best Jake and Claudette could do was to work on generators. 

It didn’t take long for them to get one done. With three more to go, Jake lead the way, making sure to take care of hooks on the way. With Nea and Meg sufficiently pissing the Doctor off, Claudette and Jake started working on another generator. Jake’s attention darted up as his heartbeat starting growing faster. Claudette pulled her hands away from the generator, flinching at the explosion and sparks. Claudette’s voice was quiet and panicked. 

“Sorry! I didn’t-”

They had to be quiet. He clamped his hand over Claudette’s mouth. He then made a ‘shush’ motion, and pointed where they came from. She understood the message and nodded, following close behind Jake. He quietly crawled through a window, looking around for the Doctor. His heart was still racing, so where was he? Claudette’s scream made him spin around. 

She was holding onto the wall for dear life, with the Doctor holding onto her leg. There was a sudden drop in Jake’s stomach out of horror. He frantically searched for the nearest blunt object, deciding simply to tear a brick out of the wall and throw it. It tore at his fingers to get the brick, but a quick toss of it at the Doctor’s head was enough to get him to let go. He urged Claudette in front of him, guiding where she ran with a hand at her back. 

His hand was definitely torn up from digging into brick. He could worry about that when they were safe. Meg and Nea had managed another generator, and he assumed the Doctor would go after them. Still, he couldn’t risk it. He lead Claudette back around, behind a rock at the edges of the Lodge’s grounds. He listened quietly, his heartbeat faint, but slowly growing louder. That answered the question of who the Doctor was going after. He kept a lookout, darting back behind the rock when he saw the Doctor looking around, eventually coming closer and closer. 

Claudette kept perfectly silent. Jake would’ve been impressed, if he wasn’t currently trying to hide from a lunatic. They were going to be found eventually. He turned to Claudette, and he couldn’t help but admire the dedicated attempt not to look terrified. He took his jacket off, and wrapped it around her. He motioned her to stay low, then stood himself and walked to the other side of the rock to get a look at where the Doctor was. There was no way the Doctor didn’t see him now, but still Jake went behind the rock. 

He screamed as the shock went through him. He took off from behind the rock, back to the walls and windows he could use to evade a mace strike. The Doctor never even checked behind the rock, probably pissed at Jake for smacking him in the face. He was perfectly fine with that. He vaulted over the window, the Doctor right on his heels. This will get tricky. He bolted forward, aiming to make the Doctor run around walls so much he would lose too much time to stop generators from going online. 

 

Meanwhile, Claudette had slinked off towards an unfinished generator. Meg and Nea got another generator up in the distance. They made their way over to where Claudette was working. 

“Where's Jake?” 

Meg sounded concerned. She still knelt down to work on the generator. Claudette looked over her shoulder. 

“I don't know. The Doctor was chasing him.” 

Nea grabbed a flashlight from the nearby chest, walking over to the generator and grinning.

“Aww, he gave you his jacket, too. That's sweet.” 

Claudette shook her head. 

“No, it was.. It blends in.” 

Nea just laughed, moving to help with the generator.

“Why didn't he keep it then, to help him hide from the Doc?” 

Claudette opened her mouth, then shut it again. She couldn't argue with that statement, but she was still very grateful to Jake for handing it to her. Or, more accurately, wrapping it around her. It was still rather oversized, but comforting. Meg stood up from the generator with a light smack of her fist to her chest. 

“Don't worry Claudette, I'll make sure your boyfriend is okay.” 

“Meg, he's not my boyfriend.” 

“Yet.” Nea added. Claudette just sighed, continuing repairs as Meg ran off. She could feel her cheeks getting hot. The idea made her flustered. 

“Aww, look at you. You really like him, don't you?” 

Claudette didn't look over so she could focus on the generator. She sighed. 

“..Yeah, I do. He's always looking out for me.” 

“I think the feeling’s mutual. After all, he is currently running from a Killer without his normal jacket to make sure you didn't get spotted.” 

Claudette just continued working. He struck her as an animal-person rather than a people-person, she she never really thought much on it. Or tried to, at least. She really enjoyed when he spoke, even if it was just for a few moments. She wasn’t too different, used to talking over forums and providing botany information for curious people online. The lights turned on, and Claudette stood. Nea shrugged, turning to find another generator. 

“Eh, all up to you. But it is pretty cute.” 

Claudette followed behind Nea, finding the half-done generator she and Jake had been working on. It wouldn’t be long for them to get it done. Jake’s scream caught their attention. Through their auras, they could sense he was dangling from a hook. Claudette immediately stood to start walking over. 

“Wait, I’ll get it.” 

Claudette frowned, but Nea had already sprinted away. She sighed, kneeling to finish the generator. I’ll finish this quickly, and then open a door, and we can all get out fine. She had to focus on this. She heard Meg scream, but didn’t sense her getting injured. The madness would prove to be ruinous if she didn’t work faster. Almost done, come on! The light turned on, and the sirens blared from either door. She ran to the one furthest from the Doctor, looking to the auras of Meg and Jake. The Doctor wasn’t letting either Meg or Nea close. She took a deep breath, holding down the bar to unlock the door. 

Her heartbeat started racing faster. He’s coming over here! She silently urged the door to open faster. With grinding gears, the door blared another siren and opened, just as Meg came vaulting over a window. 

“Go! We gotta go!” 

“Wait! We can’t leave them!” 

Meg grabbed Claudette’s arm, pulling her to the exit with the Doctor on their tail. The Doctor suddenly stopped, then turned around as Meg and Claudette ran into the fog. Claudette pulled her arm from Meg, trying to turn around. 

“Wait, Claudette!” 

She kept running, trying desperately to get back to the Lodge. The fog seemed to only get thicker, and she found herself at the campfire. Damn it, Meg! She let out a sigh, spinning around when she heard Meg’s footsteps. 

“Why did you do that?! We should’ve stayed to help them!” 

Meg seemed barely out of breath. She was a runner, but she still seemed to have more energy than any normal person. 

“We would’ve been caught! It helps them more if we aren’t on hooks!” 

Claudette let out a loud ‘UGH’ before moving to sit by the campfire. Meg walked over slowly, stretching her legs. 

“Look, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to decide for you.” 

Claudette’s anger subsided. It really wasn’t directed at Meg, moreso at not being there to help the person who ultimately saved her from a gruesome hook. She stayed quiet, staring at the fire. Meg sat down on the log. 

“Nea’s still there, and she’s every bit as determined as I am. They’ll be fine!” 

Claudette mumbled a thanks. She held the jacket close to her, eyes up at the treeline waiting for Nea and Jake to come back. It felt like an eternity before the treeline rustled, and the two stumbled out towards the fire. 

“Jake! You’re okay!” 

Claudette stood and rushed over, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. His hair was disheveled and had leaves and twigs sticking out from it, and several bruises and injuries from the trial. The two fell backwards as Jake lost his balance, letting out a groan when he hit the ground. Claudette scrambled off of him.

“Sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I? Just, stay there!” She ran over to get the medkit she kept by the campfire. Jake stayed put, Nea walking over to sit next to Meg at the campfire. The two talked too softly for Jake or Claudette to hear them. Claudette sat next to Jake, taking out bandages and antiseptic. 

“This will probably sting.” 

Jake just nodded, biting onto the scarf around his neck. Claudette helped him sit up, cleaning the injuries and then bandaging them. She noticed the small winces Jake made each time, but he did a very good job at hiding them. She was just too observant of others pain to miss it. When Claudette finished, Jake took the scarf out of his mouth. 

“You okay?” 

Claudette was surprised by the question. 

“What? Of course! You could’ve died!” 

Jake shook his head. “Nea had my back. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you.” 

Claudette felt her cheeks heat up again. I guess Nea was right. She helped him over to the campfire, hiding her blush in the jacket. Jake let out a laugh. 

“Do you like my jacket that much?” 

Right, he’s gonna want it back. When she sat down, it was clearly obvious how much she swam in it. She took it off, handing it to him. 

“It’s nice and warm. Thanks for lending it to me.” 

He took the jacket after a second. Why did he hesitate?

“No need to thank me.” 

He put it on and sat back against the log, letting out a deep breath. Claudette smiled as he closed his eyes, quietly moving to stand up. 

“Where are you going?” 

Jake didn’t need to open his eyes to know Claudette was going to walk away. She paused, holding her arms. 

“To let you rest, get some peace and quiet.” 

“What if I wanted you to stay?” 

Claudette slowly walked back and sat down next to Jake. Nea was definitely right. Jake wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He wrapped the jacket around her and let her rest her head on his shoulder. She laughed quietly, looking up to Jake’s hair. 

“Your hair is an absolute mess.” 

“I uh, ran through some bushes.” 

She ran her fingers through his hair, picking out twigs and leaves. Once she was satisfied with how many she got out, she let herself relax, and the two fell asleep. Meg and Nea shot each other very satisfied looks, then sat back to relax themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story I drew inspiration from [this](https://dbdheadcanon.tumblr.com/post/157866257391/im-still-surprised-that-i-get-so-much-positive) as a sort of thanks for all the lovely art/comments on [tumblr](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/). I'm always happy to chat there!


	5. We're Gonna Live Forever..Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David protects those close to him, despite whatever the threat is.

Quentin was getting good at trials, evading the Killer and helping the others recover and work on the generators. He was a reliable member of the team of survivors, and was quite proud of his performance. Being to sleep a bit more each night was helping him out, of course under the watchful eye of a certain David King. The English scrapper sort of decided he would take care of the dreamwalker, and there wasn't any arguments that could be made against it. David was rough, and enjoyed fighting more than was healthy, but he cared for the people he called his friends. 

Quentin now went into trials confident, that he could help keep everyone safe. He learned plenty about botany from Claudette, and was confident in his ability to combine that with his knack for finding medkits in chests. He didn’t mind taking a less-active role in ‘distract the killer’. 

This trial, he found himself in the Coal Tower, and the forest around it. He took a deep breath, calmly walking towards the nearest generator. He tended to start trials away from others, he noticed, but they would eventually meet up with him. David didn’t stop exploring the area until he did. Quentin was always grateful to have David with him, the scrapper protected everyone with the determination of a honey badger. 

He was just over halfway done with the generator when David emerged from behind a tree. His voice was quiet as he walked closer and knelt to start working on the generator. 

“Huntress. Got some nasty hatchets, and they come atcha fast.” 

Quentin nodded. He focused on the generator, head darting up when he heard an explosion in the distance. Someone connected the wrong wire. He kept working, the combined teamwork of him and David getting it done quickly. They heard the humming start growing louder, and moved to the treelines and grass to hide. 

The humming grew softer until it was out of earshot. The two continued moving, just reaching another generator as another generator blew up. They would have to seriously work to get generators on. They heard another survivor in the distance, probably being chased by the Huntress. Claudette walked up to the generator, nodding to the two. 

“Feng found a key, we’re gonna take the hatch.” 

The three of them focused on the generator, nearly completing it when Claudette stood up. 

“I’m going to make sure Feng’s okay.” 

With that, she was off running, leaving David and Quentin to finish getting the generator running. It didn’t take much longer for the lights to come on. The two went to go and try to find the hatch, sticking close together. The humming was faint, still after Feng. They scanned the ground, looking for any trace of where the hatch might be. The humming didn’t fade, even when they saw Feng running the other direction. In fact, the humming was growing louder. David broke into a run when he felt his heartbeat begin racing. 

“Haul ass, kid!” 

Quentin sprinted after David. Over the humming and racing heartbeats, they heard Feng scream from the tower. 

“FOUND IT! MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!” 

Feng could scream if she wanted to, that was certain. Of course, now, the Huntress was determined to make sure they didn’t make it there. Hatchet’s were flying past them so quickly, Quentin barely saw the iridescent glint. They split up and ran to get behind the cover of the wall, as the Huntress wound up another throw. We aren’t going to make it without getting hit. David ran in front of the hatchet, crying out in pain.

They rounded the wall of the tower, vaulting through the window. Quentin turned around, gaze briefly turning to the window. 

“Shit, hold on.” 

David held onto the handle of the hatchet, fist tightening around it. 

“Get in the locker, don’t come out ‘till the bitch’s gone.” 

“What? No!” 

David staggered to his feet, eyes on the window as the red stain loomed over it. Quentin didn’t have time to argue as the locker door was opened quietly, and he was more or less shoved inside. The Huntress turned the corner, and David grit his teeth. 

“You wanna ‘ave a go, rabbit bitch? Let’s fuckin’ ‘ave a go!” 

Quentin pressed his back to the very back of the locker. She can’t know I’m here. David threw the hatchet back at the Huntress with sudden force, making her roar in frustration and anger. The hatchet had hit her chest, but she didn’t even seem to be injured. She instead took the hatchet and slammed it down on David’s shoulder. With a swift kick, she kicked him to the ground and returned the hatchet to her belt. Quentin had to cover his mouth with his hand to avoid making any noise. 

The Huntress surveyed around the tower. Where were Claudette and Feng? Did they leave already? It felt like an eternity before she left, assuming he went to do more generators and taunt her. He quietly slipped out of the locker, running over to David. 

“David? David, come on!” 

He bit his lip, applying everything he knew from Claudette. Apply this like an antiseptic, this herb right into the wounds. It works wonders. The light groan from David sent a wave of relief through Quentin. 

“Oh, thank God. Come on, we gotta go!” 

Quentin helped David to his feet, making it to the hatch as his heart started racing. He fell through what seemed like thick, gelatinous fog, then found his feet on solid ground with the crackling light of the campfire in front of him. Claudette and Feng were already there, Claudette jumping to her feet as she saw the two. 

“Oh, God! Are you okay? Let me get my kit!” 

Claudette ran back over to the fire, Feng sitting with her head tilted. 

“You aren’t mad about us leaving, right? It was either that or all of us die.” 

Quentin just shook his head. He wasn’t going to worry about that. He lead David over to the fire. Claudette grabbed bandages and antiseptic from the kit, applying them to his wounds. David stayed on his feet, gritting his teeth. 

“Fuckin’ cheatin’ bitch.” 

“David, she’s a Killer. I don’t think being fair is normal.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t curse out the spineless fuckin’..” 

He bit his lip, letting out a deep breath. Claudette wrapped the axe wounds as best as she could. 

“It’s still going to hurt for awhile,but it should recover.” 

She gave a small, reassuring smile, then moved over to sit by the campfire and put the medkit away. David looked to the fire, then to Quentin. 

“Thanks for the save, kid.” 

He gave a grin. Quentin just slightly shook his head, rushing forward to give a hug. David returned the hug, patting Quentin’s back. 

“S’alright, Quentin. No dumb bitch in a fuckin’ mask is gonna do me in.”   
“..Still. Never do that again, please.” 

“You got my word I’ll try not to. I still gotta look out for ya, don’t I?” 

Quentin released his hug on David, giving a small smile. 

“Thanks.” 

David moved over to sit by the campfire. 

“You got it, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sense that this is a favorite! Come say [hey!](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/)


	6. Misguided Responsibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie is still his little sister, and Michael looks out for his family. Even if it's for unusual reasons.

Laurie was used to lunatics with weapons being obsessed with her, for one reason or another. With Michael, it became the usual, to run from the man- her brother- wielding a butcher’s knife. When she found herself in the Entity’s realm, it didn’t usually change. Usually. Sometimes the Killers let her go, for reasons she couldn’t explain. Every now and then, the Killer seemed almost loving with her obsession. It was.. Strange. 

The Huntress was a strange Killer. She was every bit ruthless as all the others, but every now and then, she was strangely obsessed with one of the girls. Never any of the guys, Laurie noticed. She sometimes heard the others talk about the Red Forest, and the cabin there. How there was a small skeleton against the wall with chains. She didn’t think about it much, there wasn’t much point in getting worked up over something she could do nothing about. 

The irony wasn’t lost on her when she found herself in the Red Forest for another trial. She calmly walked to the nearest generator she could find, looking over her shoulders before she started working. She kept glancing around, for any sign of someone that wasn’t a survivor. In the distance, she heard a cry. Someone was caught already, and she decided to keep working. Saving them would be pointless if they all died. 

Of course, her fellows this time didn’t think the same. The Huntress must have had brought the hatchets she can throw quickly. It didn’t take long for one to be hooked, one injured, and the other on the ground, crawling. Laurie let out a sigh. She’d survive, just as she did with her brother. Even if that meant she’d be the last one. 

Risking herself to save them would do nothing, and while they’d be angry later, she would have to reason the foolishness of going all out within the first few minutes. The Huntress must’ve burned something to allow more hooks, because it wasn’t long after that that the other three were hanging and taken by the Entity. She could at least get the hatch open and make her escape there. Her looks over her shoulder became more and more frequent, until she heard the distinct hum of the Huntress.

She left the generator and started moving away, despite it almost being done. If she could avoid being seen, she would be alright. Laurie’s heartbeat started racing as she found a patch of grass and rocks to nestle herself beside. The rabbit mask came into view, staring at the generator, then around the area. She was determined, knowing Laurie was still around. Laurie herself kept as silent as possible, refusing to move. She would have to move eventually, staying here longer than necessary was deadly. When the Huntress turned her back, Laurie began creeping away. 

The cawing of the crows gave her away. Damn you birds! She bolted as the Huntress turned around and stopped humming. She was definitely spotted now. She felt the hatchet rush past her, looking to see where the Huntress was. She was definitely gaining, and Laurie was on her own. She refused to just give up. The forest was dense enough that she could hide somewhere and get away. 

But, the Huntress knew her home well. She rapidly gained on Laurie, throwing a hatchet into her back. Laurie vaulted over a halfwall, hoping to at least make some distance. The hatchet strike stung her back. She was almost around the corner when another hatchet dug into her leg. Laurie cried in pain, turning to look at the Huntress, daring her to lift her up. She never left the campfire without a shard of anything she could find to stab the Killers with.

The Huntress didn't pick her up. The Killer stared, almost lovingly, at Laurie. The words coming out of the Huntress’ mouth were entirely foreign. Laurie stared in confusion as the Huntress continued. What was this masked killer trying to say? And why? The Huntress seemed to laugh before dropping her giant axe. What was she doing? The Huntress almost seemed to be scooping Laurie up into a hug. Laurie stabbed the shard into the Huntress’ stomach, who screamed in frustration rather than pain. 

Laurie took off running, hoping to gain some distance now. She wouldn't keep the Huntress busy for long. She weaved around trees, rocks, and anything else she could find to avoid another hatchet. Her heartbeat raced, but no humming was heard. Instead, the Huntress kept talking. The superior speed of the Killer made tracking an easy task, especially with a blood trail. Instead of swinging the mighty axe, the Huntress reached to grab Laurie and hold her close, hand closing around her neck. 

The Huntress seemed to be scolding her, but for what? Trying to survive? And since when did she ever not use her axes? Laurie struggled to free herself, eventually going limp as the world turned black. 

 

Laurie slowly opened her eyes. Her head hurt, recalling the trial she was just in. She had to have died, right? Then why was she in this dark, cramped room instead of the campfire? She soon realized the rope tied tightly around her neck, and her hands tied behind her back. Was this the Huntress’ reason for her strange obsession habits? She struggled against the ropes. The ropes dug into her skin more with each movement. 

She could hear footsteps coming closer, and closed her eyes. She'd pretend to still be unconscious, and the Huntress would leave her be. The soft hum of that unnerving lullaby echoed through, and stopped when the Huntress crouched close to Laurie. She still had no idea what the rabbit-masked killer was saying. A gentle stroke along her cheek made it tough to keep up the act. Am I this Killer’s toy? She heard more footsteps, and the Huntress was no longer there. She had abruptly left, and Laurie didn't quite care for the reason why. She had to escape. 

The ropes dug into her wrists, and she swore she felt them bleed. The rope around her neck was making it hard to breathe. Her attention darted to the doorway when she heard a frustrated cry. Someone else is here. Another Killer, most likely. Despite the pain, Laurie struggled to get her wrists free. Another cry from the doorway, this time distressed. Heavier footsteps came towards her, and quickly. She froze when she saw the pure white, stoic mask she knew well. 

She kept a cautious gaze on him. This was not a situation she wanted to be in with the man who tried to kill her on several occasions. There was the undeniable fact he showed up and had a spat with the Huntress. She didn't want to think about why. 

Michael moved slowly towards her. He still held the kitchen knife firmly in his hand. He is going to kill me here. She struggled against the ropes. Not here! They only dug more into her skin. She was getting lightheaded as the lack of oxygen caught up to her. Her head lolled back, and she cursed her own carelessness. The point of the knife brushed against her neck, but just as quickly was gone, and the tension of the rope was nonexistent. He's helping me? 

She was too exhausted and weak to complain. Feeling helpless, confined, was a feeling Laurie did not like at all. As much as she didn't want to be in this situation, it was better than the alternative. The knife cut into the rope around her wrists. She brought her hands to her lap, gently rubbing the marks left behind. Her weight was lifted off the ground with no warning, leaving her confused. What was happening? Why is he carrying me?

She stared at her hands to keep herself from looking elsewhere and getting dizzy. The ropes were rough and crude, and her wrists showed it. She was going to be in pain for at least a day or two. She felt fog close in around her, and then dissipate as Michael kept walking. Where is he even taking me? There was no way now she could hope to run for it. Staying docile seemed to work so far. His footsteps became louder as he started walking on solid floor. Did all the Killers have their own place to stay before heading out to kill us? 

She was set gently on a soft bed. She kept her attention on Michael, who stared at her as if expecting something. Is he waiting for me to go to sleep to kill me? She sat up in the bed, eyes narrowed. He shook his head, moving across the room to put the knife down. It was a small reassurance, but she knew how quickly he could cross that distance to reach it. She couldn’t tell anything from the blank expression of the mask. What is he thinking? 

He turned around to get scraps of cloth, which he had probably torn off countless times from the other survivors. He walked back over to the bed and pointed at her wrists. She stayed at the back of the bed against the wall. He sat at the edge of the bed, pointing to her wrists with the cloth. She froze in place. Is he trying to tie my wrists too? He looked to the doorway of the small house, then lifted the mask enough to show his face. 

She blinked at the concern she saw. She realized then what he meant with the cloth, and she slowly extended her wrists. Michael gently wrapped it around the cuts the rope had made, taking special care to make sure it wasn't too tight. Laurie looked over the patterns that would undoubtedly become stained red. Michael's head tilted, almost questioningly. Well, this isn't the strangest thing that's ever happened. 

“I'm okay. Thanks.” 

She could've sworn she saw a smile, before their attention darted to the sound of someone approaching, and fast. That has to be the Huntress. Of course she'd come back. Michael pulled the mask down, storming over to grab his knife and block the doorway as a hatchet came shooting through. Laurie heard the frustrated shouting from the Huntress, still speaking some language unknown to her. She was mid-yelling when Michael slammed his knife into her shoulder. She screamed, using her other arm to bring a hatchet down on him. 

He slammed the other arm into the doorway, silently glaring at the Huntress. After a silent minute, he let go. The Huntress growled, but turned and stormed away. He didn't understand her, did he? She shook her head. Just as quickly as he had gone into silent masked murderer mode, he was back to the caring brother role. The knife was on the other side of the room, and Michael took his seat at the edge of the bed with his mask partially lifted. She let out a deep sigh, falling back into the bed. Today was too weird. 

She felt the bed shift as Michael looked over. He must've thought I passed out on the spot. She waved her hand. 

“I'm okay, just tired.”

He leaned back, sitting quietly. She took deep breaths, trying to wrap her head around everything that happened. Her head jolted up as she felt a hand on hers. Since when did he ever show any closeness like this? He took his hand away, surprise and concern on his face. She let her head fall back. Her neck and wrists still hurt, and the lack of air had given her a serious headache. She felt the blanket underneath her move, and then be put on top of her. She let her eyes close. If he was going to take on that Big Brother role now, she wasn’t going to change that, even if the reasoning was probably because Michael didn’t like anybody else hurting her outside of trials but him. 

A little misguided, but appreciated nonetheless, she thought as she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always happy to chat on my [tumblr](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/), come say hey!


	7. Sunlit Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David, Jake, and Dwight find themselves in a fantastic, magical part of the Entity's realm. (A DbD/FF crossover!)

The Entity’s connections to the outside world was disjointed, often fragments of information he gleaned from those that came into his realm. Information from varying time periods mixed together, creating unsettling amalgamations of what could be real. Often times, it stuck to the same routine, to keep itself sated off the survivors it trapped in it’s realm. Every now and then, it decided to branch out, and keep things interesting. 

The campfire flickered softly as Dwight sat next to it. He was exhausted, absently watching the fire. He was left with David and Jake as the others were out in trials, and was staying up to keep watch. Despite how tired he was, he offered to take the first watch. The other two had gotten themselves injured for his sake, and he wanted to repay the favor. 

He jumped when the fire suddenly went out and the fog closed in quickly. He stood in a weary alertness. 

“Jake? David? Guys?!” 

The fog seemed more like a sheet, blocking anything farther than a foot from his face. When it slowly cleared, he found himself in a strange forest, the trees overhanging becoming more sparse and less intimidating. Did that mean he was free from the Entity’s realm? No, that didn’t sound right. He still didn’t recognize this forest, but it could have been another realm with a new Killer. He quietly walked forward, not needing long to realize something was strange. _Is the Entity playing games with us?_

There were no generators, and nothing but expanses of forest. _How are we supposed to escape?_ He took a deep breath, looking around. It seemed to just go on forever, no changes to anything of the land. He couldn’t understand where he was, it all just seemed the same. The rustling of leaves made him dart behind a tree. Worst case scenario, he hid when he didn’t have to. He bit his lip when he saw the creature that emerged from the bushes. 

A twisted tiger-like form walked out, ribs and bones exposed. It’s eyes were a glowing orange, claws something like the Hag’s. Metal twisted through and out of the creature, and Dwight kept still. It lowered its head to the ground, sniffing the dirt. It’s gaze snapped up to Dwight’s hiding spot, growling and walking over. _Shit, shit, shit!_ It sprinted towards his spot, and Dwight spun around the tree to avoid the lunge. With his back pressed to the tree, orange eyes stared him down. 

He took a deep breath, waiting for it to move. Its legs tensed, readying itself to leap forward. It paused, looking to its left. 

“Back off!” 

David’s voice was a relief. The man bursted out of the bushes, fist colliding with the creature’s neck. The blow sent the creature off balance, uselessly flailing at the ground. Dwight stared in awe as David’s foot slammed down on the creature, forcing a strangled cry from it before it fell limp. _Holy shit._

“Alright there?” 

Dwight blinked, nodding. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks.” 

Was David always that _strong?_ How did he not notice? David brushed his hands together, looking around. 

“Any idea where Jake went?” 

Dwight shook his head. 

“I only ran into you just now.” 

If anyone would be fine in a forest, it was Jake. He lived on his own for awhile before finding himself in the Entity’s realm. He was the best around animals, never startling any of the crows around the twisted maps where they ran for their lives. David nodded, then grinned. 

“Something got you embarrassed?” 

_Shit._

“Uh, no! Just, uh..” There was no way Dwight was going to admit he smitten with the scrapper. He was interested in Jake, too. Fuck, why does this have to be complicated? He shook his head. 

“We should try and find Jake.” 

Deep breath, Dwight. You can focus on keeping your friends safe. Now's not the time to be head over heels. 

He shook his head again, as David just shrugged. 

“You’re a terrible fuckin’ liar, y’know that?” He grinned, then cracked his knuckles. “Any clue where he might even be? Fuck knows this forest could go on forever.” 

Dwight looked around, letting out a sigh.

“I have no idea, I was hoping you did. We don't really have any other choice than to start walking and keep our eyes open.” 

David shrugged, walking in a random direction. 

“We're gonna be walkin’ awhile, so let's get to it now.” 

Dwight jogged to catch up, making sure to stick close in case anything else jumped out at them. Definitely the only reason. The treeline seemed all the same as they walked, and Dwight could've sworn he had seen the same tree 7 times by now. 

It felt like ages before they actually noticed differences in the forest, trees thinning out and bushes becoming smaller and fewer. Sunlight had started peeking through the canopy, making both of them pause. David looked back to Dwight, giving a look of disbelief. It has been too long since they felt and saw the sun's rays, and were skeptical it was some trick of the Entity’s. 

David walked into the clearing first, squinting as the sun glared down at him. The clearing was surrounded by forest that had fallen away to reveal the lake below the cliff they stood on, teeming with creatures that looked otherworldly. The two stared in shock. 

“The fuck kinda place is this?” 

Dwight was stunned. Most areas were dark and gloomy, hiding where the Killer might be lurking, yet this lake was bright and serene, and he didn't fully believe it was real. 

The shaking of the earth beneath them shook him back to reality. David tugged on Dwight’s sleeve, nearly dragging him like a ragdoll to solid ground before the cliff underfoot collapsed. He yelped loudly as he was yanked, staring at the large, horned creature that clawed its way up the rock face. Impaled on it’s horn was an all too familiar green jacket. It leapt into the air as David and Dwight moved to run, landing between the two. 

Dwight staggered backwards as the beast turned to look at him, colossal claws coming to swing. He kept backing up, covering his face with his arm as his arm felt alight with.. Something. He couldn’t explain it, nor could he explain the glowing, golden dome that came up around him. It had prevented the beast’s claws from slamming down on him, and for that he was thankful. The air around his arm seemed to shimmer, and it took a moment for him to realize this was not a trick of the Entity designed to hurt him. It was something he could use to protect himself, and others. 

“Th’fuck was that?!” 

Both Dwight and the monster turned their attention to David. In classic form, David refused to back down, fists clenched as he stared it down. _Oh no._ Dwight made a dash for David, shimmering gold around his arm fading to a clear distortion. When he reached out with his hand, the fire that erupted forward and scorched the monster’s side caught him off guard, and he yelped. 

“TH’FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”

“I WISH I KNEW, DAVID!”

The beast roared, shaking its head as it turned back to Dwight. Burning red eyes narrowed into razor thin slits at him, growling so deeply Dwight swore he could feel it. A high pitched whistle sounded from below the cliff, distracting the creature enough for Dwight to move away from impending doom. 

David grabbed onto Dwight’s sleeve, moving the other man in front of him and running down the cliffside to the lake. The whistle sounded out again, and the monster changed its focus to the whistle’s source. It leaped down to charge towards it, roaring as trees were brought down on top of it when it carelessly charged over vines between them in the treeline. David and Dwight ran towards its body as it was fully crushed under the tree trunks. 

 

Jake sighed, hair disheveled and a combined mess of tangles, leaves, branches, and vines. He walked out from the treeline, walking up to the beast’s horn to grab his now torn jacket. _This will be a pain to fix._

“JAKE! YOU’RE OKAY!”

He looked up, nearly barreled to the ground by a charging Dwight and David, the latter scooping the two of them into a hug. He winced, not that he didn’t enjoy the company of the other two, but that the hug was tight. Very much so. He squirmed as much as he could, taking in a deep breath when David put him down. 

“Yeah, fine here. You two are loud.” 

He tilted his head slightly. _Were these two really that worried for me? A beast is nothing, even if it’s colossal._ Dwight looked up to the cliff where they were before, then back to Jake. 

“Did you see us up there! Did you see all that!?” 

Dwight’s hands were on Jake’s arms as he spoke with such an excited energy, it caught Jake off guard. He slowly lowered Dwight’s arms, nodding. 

“Yeah, I saw. I don’t what happened, but I saw it.” 

David shook his head. 

“Some fuckin’ bullshit’s going on. I don’t like being toyed with.” 

Dwight looked around the clearing, and to the lake, which stayed serene despite the colossal creature they had just brought done causing so much destruction. Jake put his jacket on, despite the gaping tear in the back, and let out a sigh. 

“It’s definitely not natural. So, the Entity’s still responsible.” 

Dwight sighed, looking to the other two. 

“Well, at least we can defend ourselves, right?” 

“Sure, but th’fuck does the Entity want us to actually live for? Shitbag’s always sending lunatic fuckwits to ‘ave a go at us, and it decides it’s bored of that? I don’t trust it.” 

He crossed his arms, taking a quick look around. Jake started walking down to the lake. 

“Who knows? If something comes out, we can clearly handle it. I’m going to enjoy the sun and the lake while I can.” 

Dwight followed closely after Jake, calling out.

“Hey, wait for me!” 

David lowered his arms, running after the two. 

“Anything so much as looks at any of us th’wrong way, it’s gettin’ a good fight from me!” 

Jake paused to look over his shoulder at David. 

“If you leave most things alone, they won’t bother you.” 

“Not as fun to leave everything be.” 

The edge of the lake was calm, the creatures having moved to the other side. Dwight and Jake stood at the edge, looking over the water’s surface as it reflected the sunlight. The moment was almost magical, until David’s grin grew wide and he shouted. 

“COMIN’ IN!” 

Jake stepped to the side, leaving Dwight to be tackled into the water. Dwight yelped, squirming free from David’s grip. 

“Never answered me earlier, by the way.” 

David stood, crossing his arms as Dwight scrambled to his feet. 

“Wait, what question?” 

As soon as he asked the question, Dwight realized which one David meant. 

“Oh! Oh, uh..” 

_Shit._ There was no way out of the question this time. Does he even feel the same way? David grabbed him in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles over his hair. 

“You’re more obvious than a fuckin’ siren, mate!” 

Jake kept his attention on the water’s surface, until David reached over to pull him into the water. 

“Don’t think you’re excluded.” 

“I was trying to stay at least somewhat dry.” 

Jake sighed, hair covering his face after he got soaked. 

“Your fault for stepping into the water, mate.”

Jake just shook his head, splashing water at both David and Dwight. David turned to shield his eyes, then turned back to Jake with a grin. 

“Oh, you wanna go at it then? Let’s fuckin’ go!” 

Dwight let out a soft sigh of relief, then joined in on the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from my [tumblr!](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/) It was rather fun, even if AO3 is a pain with italic formatting. I'm always open to chat and stuff there!


	8. The Frenzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alive by Nightfall AU story, in which Michael is a survivor, and Laurie is a killer.

Michael hated being trapped in this realm of constant death or survival. He knew it too well for his liking, and hated more when he was in a trial with others against his sister. It was a constant sign that he wasn’t able to keep her safe, a reminder that she became so detached from anyone else, and he hadn’t done enough to prevent it. She eventually came after him as she started getting rid of any and all family, but he refused to hurt her. He still doesn’t want to, but she doesn’t feel the same. 

Every time he heard the crazed laughter in the distance, it hurt knowing that _just maybe, he could’ve done something._ He was patient and determined, willing to wait a long time for his plans to come to life. That was one of his strengths, even if it made him seem cold and uncaring. He had a very careful _plan_ , and nothing would work to disrupt that. He never worried about losing hope, he knew he would get his way eventually. 

That didn’t mean every hook, stab, or swing didn’t hurt, or didn’t want to avoid being sacrificed. Especially not at the hands of his little sister. He had seen glimpses of what she had become, _what the Entity turned her into._ He hadn't even known she existed until she started high school, and he did everything he could to save up money and move, especially after their eldest sister died. He had seen her slowly losing her grip on reality, and did everything to be there for her. _It wasn't enough, I should've done more,_ repeated in his head hundreds of times. _I’ll do better this time,_ he’d tell himself. He was going to fulfill his promise. 

That was why, time and time again, he’d try at least once to talk to her. He wouldn’t ever give up, even to the point of seeming insane. Hell would have to freeze over before he would think about giving up on anything. Even when he heard her laugh, enjoying every stab she inflicted, he made it an effort to at least try once to talk to her. 

He walked calmly, undeterred by the pounding of his heart. Nothing new. Hands in the pockets of his hoodie, he kept walking until his heart raced faster and faster. He knew he should be afraid, she has tried every time to kill him without fail, both here and at home before coming to the Entity’s realm. But fear was never an emotion Michael really felt. Even as he stared at the disheveled mop of blonde hair belonging to his sister, seemingly with six arms and a knife in each hand. 

“Laurie?” 

She spun her attention around, eyes seeming more like small dots on a black backdrop rather than actual eyes. The sight made Michael wince, another reminder of what she was now. 

“Laurie, it’s me, Michael. Please, don’t do this anymore. I’ll be there for you, I promise.” 

She slowly walked towards him, arms at the ready to tear him to pieces. He stood still, hands coming out of his pockets in a non-threatening, raised motion.

“Laurie, please. _It doesn’t need to be like this._ ” 

Her arms lowered, and Michael felt a spark of hope. She kept walking forward slowly, head tilting ever so slightly. 

“I promise Laurie, you’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

She closed her eyes, and only when she stopped walking did Michael walk forward. 

“Laurie-” 

His eyes widened as she suddenly tackled him with a maniacal, echoing laugh. He felt the knife dig into his right hand as he had thrown it backwards to catch himself, making him scream. He felt another blade dig into his shoulder, then his stomach. He kept screaming out in pain, using his left hand to try and push Laurie off. Laurie’s hand went over his eyes, nails digging into his skin. Was he bleeding, or were those tears? Were her screams of laughter, or sadness?

Another blade dug into side as the first one was ripped out. His throat was growing hoarse as he kept screaming, trying anything he could to push Laurie away and stop her from stabbing him to death. 

“LAURIE! STOP, PLEASE!” 

He heard his own shaky breath as she grew quiet. The few seconds seemed like ages, before Michael felt her weight on top of him, arms wrapping around him gently. His head fell back, left arm weakly moving to pat Laurie’s back. 

“It’s okay.. I promise, everything’s okay..” 

He could feel himself bleeding out, having been stabbed.. Who knows how many times? It was more than his body could handle. He fell limp, eyes closing. 

_He would try again next time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came from some art posted in the DbD Discord I'm in. It gets crazy, but it's a fun time, haha. Enjoy the shorter story!


	9. The Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake is a man meant to live on his own, and he does whatever it takes to keep his freedom.

All his life, Jake was always held to high expectations. It was those expectations that pushed him away, to live outdoors in the woods. He was content to live on his own, away from civilization, but his father was not. Search party after search party came into the woods Jake called home, determined to bring him home by any means necessary. His father was a CEO of a very big company, funds weren’t an issue. It didn’t take long for Jake to become desensitized to the company of others, it only ever meant deceit and trying to take him back to a place that wasn’t home anymore. 

He took his things and ran from home, using everything he learned living out in the woods to evade the searchers. Eventually, it grew to be not enough, when the teams brought out dogs, spotlights, and infrared cameras. Just running wasn’t enough. _He had to stop them, he couldn’t go back._

He had fashioned his own weapons and traps, pitfalls with spikes and tripwires that hung victims by their legs from trees. A metal claw at the end of a rope was his weapon of choice, scrapping it together by scavenging abandoned places he came across in his efforts to stay away from the pressure and expectations waiting for him. _I will not go back. Not now, not ever._

It didn’t take long for search parties to refuse going out to look, no matter the monetary compensation tied along with it. They had seen the mutilated bodies of their fellows, impaled on spikes and cruelly hung from trees upside down, with distinct, deep gashes across their chest and shoulders. Jake Park disappeared from existence, and no one heard from him again. 

The Entity didn’t have to try hard to lull him in, sweet promises whispered around him. _You won’t have to run. Your father would never find you with me. I could grant you so much more._ Jake felt the fog close in, and he embraced it, bloody hood over his head as he closed his eyes and walked towards the Entity’s grasp. 

The Entity promised, and it delivered. The rope on his weapon became a chain, the claw becoming a twisted, razor sharp shard of some otherworldly metal. He became stronger, and more beast-like, with wolf-like teeth and golden eyes that reflected the little light present in the Entity’s realm. The only thing the Entity asked for in return was that survivors be sacrificed on hooks to it. _As long as you do this for me,_ it hummed, _I will keep you from the hell you sought to escape._

Motivated by a desperation to stay away from a life he never asked for, never wanted, he utilized every trick he had used on the search parties. _It’s no different. If they escape, I’ll go back._ He found himself enjoying these trials, every time an opportunity to become less of a human, less of a man with expectations of riches, and education, and false niceties that he wanted nothing to do with. 

Every now and then, whispers of what remained of his conscience sounded in his head. _These people were innocent, just trying to survive._ Every thought was chased away, the resolution that he was trying to survive, too. 

_Life was cruel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short but sweet Alive by Nightfall story. Will have quite a few stories coming up here!


	10. Hypocritical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feng has a bad day because of sleep exhaustion, and gets advice from the worst person about it.

Feng Min was a person who did not lose. No matter what happened, she strove to victory, being number one on scoreboards, and being the best. With everything at stake, she had to be. Sleep didn’t matter as much, she needed as much time as she could get practicing, bettering herself, making sure she _stayed the best._ She had started on a downward spiral before coming to the Entity’s domain with her team, trying to be the best. She kept trying and trying, only to fail more and more. It drove her insane. 

She initially hated Quentin, another competitor in this playing field, and one who could function _so well_ while exhausted. She promised herself that she would outdo him in every single trial, even if that meant leaving him on the ground to bleed out. She had to _win._ Not just for her own survival, but for her pride. Unsurprisingly, Quentin usually stayed away from her. _Good._

She rarely wasted her time saving others. There was an objective to play, and Feng knew the longer they stayed, the worse her chances of survival became. It would be harder for her to avoid the Killer when there were less idiots in the trial, and less objectives to defend. 

This trial, she had a hard time focusing. She hadn’t slept in weeks now, just barely getting by on bare minimum rest. She could barely tell which wire was which in the generators. She was thankful for her ability to handle the wires quietly, even when she messed up. But, that didn’t always save her. The explosion of sparks jolted her upright. _No point in sticking around._

Her heartbeat started racing, alerting her to the Killer growing close. She kept quiet, keeping herself against the scrapwall in the Wrecker’s Yard. It wasn’t the best, but it was better than staying out in the open. The Trapper turned the corner, walking past her to kick the generator. It took a look around, then walking off to another generator. 

_Too easy._

She went back to the generator, fixing it quietly until the lights had come on. She calmly walked away, heading to another generator. The others had gotten one done, too, and were probably messing around too much to get anything more. _I don’t need these noobs anyway._ She rubbed her eyes, then let out a scream as metal teeth clamped down on her leg with a loud snap. _Careless, stupid, failure._

She grit her teeth as her heart began racing. She heard the rustling of leaves behind her, and she just closed her eyes. She had been a pain in every Killer’s side up until now, there was no way he would let her ever get free. 

“Stay still, okay?” 

She opened her eyes and looked up, seeing Quentin with his ever-tired gaze on the trap, and hands reaching to pry it open. She bit her lip as the metal was pried from her leg, heart racing faster.   
“We gotta go, come on!” 

Quentin grabbed her arm, guiding her along the mazes of scrapwalls, tires, and other car parts. Feng looked over her shoulder, seeing David shine a flashlight in the Trapper’s eyes and redirecting the murderer’s ire to himself. The grin on his face told her that he enjoyed it. He heartbeat slowed, and eventually calmed as she and Quentin slowed to a walk. He opened the medkit in his hands and got out bandages to wrap out Feng’s leg. 

She sat quietly. She had never been particularly kind to any of the others, and had even left them for dead. She expected the same, not the gentle caring she was receiving now. 

“Are you okay?” 

Quentin sounded legitimately concerned. She hated it, she wanted to not like any of the others here, and just focus on winning. That’s all that mattered. _Right?_

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

She stood up, brushing herself off. She turned to head to a generator, this time keeping a close eye on the ground. She’d worry about conversation when they weren’t trying to survive. She was surprised to find Quentin following behind her, silently working with her. David and the other survivor distracted the Trapper to allow her and Quentin to get the other three generators running. She didn’t even bother to know who else she was in the trial with, she never really thought about specifics. Just other competitors, people she had to beat. 

It didn’t take the two of them long to find the exit gate and open the door. Feng started walking out before Quentin grabbed her arm. 

“Just, wait a few minutes, please? To make sure David and Laurie get out okay.” 

She groaned, walking back and crossing her arms. She’d wait, only because Quentin had gone out of his way to help her when he didn’t have to. David and Laurie came sprinting from around the wall, Trapper right behind them. 

“Go, go!” 

The four turned to run into the fog, away from the scrapyard. The fog grew thick, then parted to reveal the flickering campfire. Feng slowed down to a walk, moving to sit on her own by the fire. _Sloppy, you should’ve paid for your mistake._ She rubbed her eyes, wishing she could just not think. She pulled her knees to her chest. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! Terrible at this game you dedicate your life to? Pathetic._ She shook her head. 

“Hey, are you alright?” 

She looked up to see Quentin again, sitting beside her. Her grip on her knees tightened; the last thing she wanted to do was talk. 

“You’re not hurt or anything, right? We have some medkits here if you are.” 

She gave him a side-eyed glare. 

“Why do you even care so much? I’m fine.” 

She turned her attention back to the fire. _I don’t need them to care. I need to win._ But Quentin didn’t move, still sitting next to her. 

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m fine, you already patched up my leg. Go worry about someone else.” 

_Why isn’t he just leaving me alone?_

“Feng, you know I’m not trying to compete against you, right?” 

She turned her gaze from the fire to his face, the sincere concern and worry making her angry. _He’s pitying you for how bad you’ve become._ She shook her head. 

“I don’t need your pity.” 

“Feng, I’m not pitying you. I’m telling you I’m not trying to win anything. I don’t care if you get more generators than me-”

“WELL I DO! I HAVE TO WIN! _I CAN’T LOSE!_ ” 

Her face was hot as she caved to her emotions. Quentin was taken aback, and she hoped that he would leave her alone now. Her nails dug into her legs as she glared at the fire. She felt the tears forming in her eyes, every doubt in her mind surfacing. When she didn’t hear any movement, she muttered sharply. 

“Just go away already.” 

She heard shuffling after a few seconds of silence. _Finally._ Then she felt someone’s arm wrap around her. 

“Feng, it’s hardly losing if you survive every single trial.”

She shook her head. 

“No, you don’t get it. I have to be the best. I _have_ to.” 

Quentin squeezed his arm a bit tighter to be as reassuring as he could. 

“And you’ll stay up for weeks to do that? I admire your dedication, but you should really sleep.” 

Feng scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

“Really? The local insomniac wants to lecture me about sleeping?” 

Despite the harshness of her voice, Quentin laughed. That alone caught Feng off guard. 

“Well.. Yeah, I guess I can’t argue. How about.. If I take time to sleep, you will too?” 

Feng stretched her legs out in front of her, shoulders slumping. She hadn’t even realized they were tense until she lay on her back, brushing Quentin’s arm off. 

“Fine, if it gets you to stop worrying.” 

He smiled, laying down and closing his eyes. She let out a sigh. _Him and his dumb puppy eyed look._ She kept the space between them, settling into much-needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done as a request for a lovely anon. Come say [hey!](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/)


	11. Unusual Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie at heart is still a typical young woman, despite all that's happened in her life.

Laurie was always a fairly standard girl back home, where no one would really look twice. That changed when he came home, and Laurie was in a fight for survival. Now, in the Entity’s realm, that was the norm. There was still part of her that was a standard girl, including having crushes. She at first had shaken the thought away, there wasn’t _time_ to worry about crushes when trying to survive relentless killers. 

It had taken her awhile to come to terms with the fact that she had a crush on Jake Park, the ever silent survivalist. He normally kept to himself, and when he did speak was abrupt and blunt, but he still cared about the others. He was always the one getting rid of the cruel hooks they were sacrificed on, and definitely cared about the wellbeing of the other survivors. She worked well with him, even if he was hard to read. 

The Rancid Abattoir was never a fun area to find herself in. It reeked of carcasses, strung on display from the ceiling of the one building within the walls of the trial. The only advantage to being on any area of the Farm was the cornfields, and the screeching in the distance told her she would rely on the cornfields a lot to hide from the Nurse. 

She started to work on the generator in the middle of the field. _Better get his done so the Nurse doesn’t come over to randomly check later._ She heard rustling nearby, corn parting to reveal the Saboteur with a toolbox in his hands. She gave him a nod and a smile, then returned her focus to the generator. She could handle herself just fine, all the others knew that, but she appreciated any help she got, even if it was indirect. 

She quietly worked on the generator, listening to the screeches in the distance. They were definitely getting louder, the others probably being as stealthy as they could be. When her heart started racing, she paused her work on the generator and hid among the corn stalks. The Nurse this round had glowing eyes, the soft blue almost comforting if it wasn’t for the cruel, rusty saw in her hand. 

She saw the floating dress go by after doing a quick check and damage of the generator. When her heartbeat started slowing, she crept out to continue working on the generator. A generator turned on in the distance, and she smiled. _Good progress so far._ She kept the shard of glass in her pocket, just in case she needed to use it. 

The echoing scream made her attention dart to its source. _Jake._ She could sense he was on the other side of the building, closer to the others. She had to keep working on the generators, as much as she wanted to help. The generator lit up, and she moved on in search of another generator to power on. She found another one next to a hook, in a small maze of wooden walls. _Just have to keep an eye out. The Nurse has to stop us doing generators eventually._

Another generator lit up, and she took a deep breath. _Just this and two more to go._ The silence made her uneasy. _Something’s wrong._ She hurried her repairs, finishing the generator and moving to where she last heard Jake and the Nurse. She held the shard in her hands, eyes alert for the floating cloth of the Nurse. Her heartbeat started racing, and she kept herself quiet. 

Her head darted to another scream, strained and hoarse. She broke into a run in that direction, leading down to the basement in the Abattoir. _The others can finish the generators. I have to save him._ She slowed down as she descended the stairs. _I have to be quiet, or else this means both our deaths._ She turned the corner to the basement, calmly and quietly with the shard in her hand. 

 

Jake was normally good at keeping himself out of sight from Killers, and at losing their trails on him. The Nurse, however, was tricky. He tended to opt staying completely out of sight, but refused to leave the fields with the hook standing. He always made sure his teammates were safe to wiggle from a Killer’s grasp by taking out as many hooks as he could. Especially with Laurie involved. 

She could take care of herself, he knew that, but he wouldn’t leave her to her own devices when he could help with his expertise. _She probably could, and would, kick my ass if she didn’t want my help._ His heart was racing by the time the hook fell uselessly to the ground, earning the ire of the Nurse who undoubtedly heard it. 

He had broken into a run, leading the Nurse away from Laurie as she worked on a generator. He was fine with evading Killers for the sake of the others. He was able to reliably avoid her strikes after she had blinked towards him with the help of the hanging bodies in the Abattoir, despite the terrible stench. He cried out in pain as the rusty saw dug into his back as he leapt through a window back into the building. 

The sounds of generators being powered was worth it. But, the Nurse didn’t stop focusing on him. _Oh, she’s angry at me._ He didn’t blame her, really, but he still had to avoid another strike of that saw. He lifted his scarf and bit into it, willing himself not to whine in pain. _Time for that later._ He looked over his shoulder, then around him and didn’t spot any sign of the Nurse. He slowed himself to a walk, making his way to the basement. It was a dumb decision, but that was why he was stepping down the stairs. 

The sight of so much blood was always somewhat unsettling. He held a hand on the open wound, moving to hide behind the wall just across from the entrance. 

He let out a soft cry as he was slammed against the wall and the saw dug into his side. The Nurse’s hands closed around his throat, and he struggled to free himself. He barely registered the sound he made as his own. He didn’t understand how her grip could be so _powerful._ He began seeing spots in his vision, attempts at freeing himself becoming weaker and pathetic. He swore he heard footsteps on the stairs, but he was sure it was his mind playing tricks on him. 

Then, the Nurse’s grip on him completely disappeared. His legs gave out underneath him, making him collapse to the ground and try to catch his breath. He was lifted over someone’s shoulders, but he couldn’t find it in him to struggle. His head pounded and he could barely see. He didn’t understand. _Why would the Nurse let me go..?_ He hated feeling so weak and vulnerable. He felt the person carrying him shift, to reach up to something? He was expecting the burning pain of a hook through his shoulder at any moment. 

The tear of a hook never came. He _really_ didn’t understand. He felt the fog close in around him, then dissipate with the crackling of the campfire. The spots in his vision were still taking up most of his sight, and he could barely keep his thoughts together. _Am I safe? Did I die?_ He was set down on his back, now staring at the sky instead of the ground. He closed his eyes, convinced the Entity was playing tricks on him, that he would be killed soon enough. 

He grit his teeth as his side stung. He felt someone press their hand against the jagged cut, then wrap bandages around it and his back, lifting him slightly each time to get the bandage around. His chest heaved as he recovered, the spots in his vision fading. His eyes focused on Laurie, leaning over him. He opened his mouth to speak, interrupted by Laurie’s hand over his mouth. 

“You need to rest. I don’t want to see you pushing yourself after nearly dying. Just, nod if you’re okay now.” 

Jake pushed himself up against the log, nodding once. Laurie let out a sigh of relief, shoulders dropping. She wrapped her arms around Jake in a tight hug. 

“Thank God. I was afraid I was too late.” 

Jake lay still, realizing now that _Laurie_ had been the one carrying him. _She’s stronger than I give her credit for._ With a jolt, she released the hug and sat back. 

“Sorry, I know you’re not a hug kinda guy, I got carried away.” 

She turned her gaze to the fire. He pushed himself to sit up, arms resting on his stomach. 

“Don't worry about it. You saved my life.” 

She turned back to Jake, smiling. _Were her cheeks red?_

“I just did what I had to. I'm glad you're alright.” 

Jake smiled. He took a deep breath, letting himself relax. He was fine, he'd recover and be no more worse for wear. Even if the marks and bruises would take a bit to fade. Laurie shifted her attention back to the fire. 

“I'm not going to be mad if you sit next to me.” 

Laurie spun around, scooting back after a moment. 

“I just thought you'd want your space.” 

Jake let out a huff. _Do I seem that avoidant of people?_ He ended up shrugging. 

“It's okay. I don't mind company that much.” 

Laurie sat beside Jake, a flustered grin on her face. He closed his eyes again, and Laurie noticed just how quickly he was able to fall asleep. _He must be exhausted, though, so I can't blame him._ She stared into the fire until Jake's head dropped onto her shoulder. She rested her head on top of his, closing her eyes to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was inspired by a few Jake/Laurie shippers in a DbD Discord I'm in. I take requests and am always open to chat on [tumblr](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/) too!


	12. No Debts This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace is used to owing people, whether it's over money or his life.

Ace always refused to let things get him down. He was clever enough to turn any situation in his favor, and always come out the victor in the end. Even in the muck and swamp with the Pale Rose stuck in it, he had a plan. Using the boat as a vantage point, Ace looked over the swamp, spotting a figure with mallet and chainsaw, wearing a yellow smock. He was officially known as The Cannibal, but all the others called him Leatherface. The Hag was a cannibal too, and it didn’t take long to figure that out. 

The chainsaw was always intimidating, especially with how he swung it around wildly, but he was all too easy to avoid. He wasn’t a particularly mobile Killer. Not like the Hillbilly, who also had a chainsaw and sledgehammer. He’d feel bad, if Leatherface wasn’t trying to bash his skull in constantly. He started working on the generator on the boat, as a generator lit up. _Someone brought a brand new part._ This trial would be a piece of cake. 

He listened for his heartbeat and the heavy footfalls as he worked on the generator. The best way to handle Leatherface was to never get caught. Another generator lit up, making his smile grow wider. _This is almost too easy._ But Ace wouldn’t pass up a free victory. The boat’s siren blared loudly, starting all the nearby crows. Ace took the opportunity to wade into the marsh, weaving between cattails. Of course, he didn’t want to leave empty handed. 

The basement, for all it’s eeriness and unsettling decor, tended to hold a chest with very nice things inside. At least, for Ace that was the norm. He bounded down the steps, heading to the chest and digging through it. He stood and pulled the medkit out, looking through it quickly to admire it and the badge on its front. _Nice medkit, should last a while._ He quietly walked back upstairs as his heart pounded. _Just in time to get this, too._ Leatherface stood at the stop of the stairs, glaring down at him. Another generator lit up, but still Leatherface didn’t move. 

“Someone’s a little bitter, huh?” 

He knew he shouldn’t be taunting a behemoth with a chainsaw and sledgehammer, but he couldn’t help it. Things were going to end well, and he knew it. If the Killer wasn’t upset before, he was most certainly angry now as he stormed down the steps to swing the hammer. Ace sprinted past him, bolting up the stairs with a fancy new medkit in hand. The last generator powered on, and Ace made his way to one of the gates. 

Leatherface was surely behind him, but he could dodge with pallets and fallen trees in the swamp. He looked over his shoulder, turning to run to the nearest set of trees and pallets. Leatherface was closer than he should be, meaning the Entity’s influence was involved. The last thing Ace wanted now was to get hit. Every second, the heavy footfalls seemed to be getting faster and faster. 

Ace jumped over the fallen tree, making a desperate dash for the exit gate. He brushed past cattails, hoping to confuse Leatherface just enough to make it to the now open gate in the distance. 

The smashing pain in his ribs sent him sprawling to the ground. He grinned despite the pain; he’d be able to get free before any hooks could be reached. He was too close to the exit gate to be completely forgotten now. Ace held himself up with his arms, eyes on the behemoth standing above him. Leatherface never moved to pick him up, instead twirling the sledgehammer in his hands and striking Ace’s skull. 

Blood quickly started forming and running his face. He was lucky that his sunglasses didn’t shatter, or that his skull had caved in from the hit. Small mercies he was thankful for. He heard the revving of the chainsaw, the sound echoing in his head. He couldn’t see out of his left eye from blood running over it. He saw the chainsaw lifted in the air, then suddenly drop as Leatherface roared in pain. 

“Fuck off, will ya?!” 

David’s voice was a relief. Ace rubbed his forehead, getting to his feet as David wrestled for the sledgehammer in Leatherface’s hands. He ran to the door, David delivering a last punch before turning to run to the exit. He grabbed Ace’s arm, nearly dragging him along. 

“Move it, sunshine!” 

Behind them, Leatherface roared with fury. They ran into the fog, David’s grip on Ace’s arm unrelenting until they got to the campfire. Ace unceremoniously collapsed by the fire, still grinning at his loot this trial. David knelt down, grabbing Ace’s collar and pulling his face close.

“Th’fuck runs through that thick fuckin’ skull of yours?” 

The sudden movement made Ace’s head pound. He grabbed David’s wrists, grinning with an unintentional wink. 

“Being lucky as ever. You see what I brought back?” 

“I don’t give a shit about some dumb kit over your fuckin’ life!” 

The shouting in his face was not helping the developing headache. He couldn’t exactly open his left eye either after blood had dried over it. 

“I’m lucky you came to my rescue then, huh?” 

David scoffed, loosening his hold on Ace’s collar. 

“If you think luck’s got anything to do with it, you’re fuckin’ out of your damned mind.” 

David let go of his grip, nearly throwing Ace backwards. He didn’t have to be a genius to realize David was pissed at him, both from the outburst at him and the way he still held his fists in a tight ball. Ace took his sunglasses off, hooking them to the front of his shirt and wiping his eye. 

“Alright, I owe ya then.” 

_Anything to get him to calm down._ Ace knew David cared about other survivors in his own way, but never had been yelled at for what he did in a trial, at least so badly. Especially with intense injuries. Adrenaline had kept his ribs from crying in pain at every motion, but now it was starting to catch up. David let out a deep, drawn out breath. 

“I’m not taking a debt from you.” 

David seemed calmer now, relaxing his hands but still glaring at Ace. He held a hand out.

“Lemme see the damn kit, might as well use it to patch your arse back up.” 

Ace handed the medkit over without complaint, sitting still even as David wrapped bandages around his chest a bit too tight. He couldn’t help a small wince. 

“Th’fuck were you thinking, taunting the fuckface with a chainsaw?” 

“You wouldn’t have done the same?” 

David let out a sigh with a grimace. 

“Different story when I fucking do it. I’ve beat the shit out of plenty of pretentious fuckwits to know where to draw the damn line.” 

Ace just nodded. Hard to argue with someone who would get into fights with Killers for the sake of others, and did know when to run or when to stand his ground. Something about the silent resignation made David sigh again. 

“Listen. I’m not mad at you. More at the bastard who did it, but I can’t go find his arse to settle the score.” 

Ace knew that wasn’t just it. David had a hot temper, but never acted out of the blue. The tight grip on his collar before told him there was definitely a concern for his wellbeing present in the other. _Probably because I should know better, too._ The knowing look towards David made the scrapper glare again. 

“Don’t even.” 

Ace raised his hands in mock surrender, keeping quiet with a smug grin. David gently took out a rag and wiped away blood from Ace’s temple, his right hand moving to Ace’s jaw to tilt his head upwards. It _stung_ , eliciting a jerk from Ace, and making David grip Ace’s face a bit tighter. 

“Can’t help if you keep squirming.” 

“Believe me, I’m not trying to.” 

David put the rag to the side, putting the medkit in the stash of items to take into trials. Ace put his sunglasses back on, scooting back to lean against the log. He rested his arms behind his head, looking up at the sky absently. He felt David move up next to him. 

“Glad you’re okay, but if you even think about running off, I’m dragging your sorry arse back kickin’ and screamin’.” 

“I dunno about that, I’m hard to catch.” 

David’s arm wrapped around Ace’s waist. 

“I know plenty about findin’ people who don’t wanna be found.” 

Ace smirked, closing his eyes. 

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” 

David settled back, holding Ace close protectively. Ace’s head resting on David’s shoulder as they took the time to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A David/Ace request from my [tumblr.](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/) Come say hey! (If you're particularly curious, Ace found a purple medkit. Nice n shiny.)


	13. Tagged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg tags her first thing ever, with Nea's help.

Meg always poured her energy into athletics, keeping herself from rebellious tendencies in school when a coach noticed her potential. She became such a skilled athlete that exercise was usually the go-to solution for any stress or frustration. She could better herself and work out her emotions, instead of getting destructive. 

In the trials, running was always necessary. Killers moved at inhuman speeds for simple walking, and sprinting away was one of the few surefire ways to avoid a slash to the back. Often times, she helped the others train their ability to be able to sprint in a sudden burst of speed like she could. 

It was clear to Meg since Nea showed up that they were similar, at least with a natural rebelliousness that Meg diverted to athletics. She got along with all the survivors fairly well, and enjoyed talking to Nea a lot. She was Swedish, and had started taking long nights out and spray paint to release frustrations. _Cool._

Meg always took the time to run through the foggy forest, even if it meant always getting turned around and showing back up at the campfire. It was almost like doing laps, except she could just run and not think about where she was going. It was relaxing now, even if she had found it concerning when she first arrived. She was warming up with a jog, and would pick up her pace when her heart was pumping. 

She heard the sound of someone walking before she saw anything, and slowed herself. No one else usually came out to the woods for any extended periods of time, and she had sworn she jogged into the woods alone. She slowly crept forward, looking around her constantly. She paused as she heard a snap, then a curse. 

“Son of a bitch..” 

She could’ve sworn that was Nea’s voice. She walked a bit louder to alert Nea to her presence, brushing leaves and bushes aside to find her crouching with a half-assembled makeshift blade. 

“Nea? What are you doing?” 

She sighed, shaking her hand and standing. 

“I was carving my name into these trees. Just to see if the Entity will bother to get rid of them. If it does, I’m doing it again.” 

Meg couldn’t help but laugh. Nea’s eyes narrowed, making Meg shake her head. 

“No no, I’m not laughing at you, I just think it’s funny. Y’know, imagine the Entity and how annoyed it’s gonna get because of this.” 

Nea grinned, picking up the broken blade. 

“I thought you were gonna laugh and say it was a waste of time.” 

Meg shook her head, grin wide on her face. 

“No way! I used to do the same sorta stuff, sneaking out and getting into things I shouldn’t. I just started running track to get out my frustrations since I was falling behind in school. Besides, it should be pretty easy to find some rope to patch that up.” 

Nea fell into stride beside Meg, heading back to the campfire. It was quiet, and nearly empty, as others were either out in trials or sleeping. They borrowed some rope and wire from a toolbox, resecuring the blade to the handle. Meg should’ve gone back to continue her daily run, but the idea of getting on the Entity’s nerves was too entertaining to pass up. 

“What were you going to write on the trees anyway?”

Nea shrugged, holding the knife in her hands. 

“Same as always, Mashtyx. I would tag that on buildings all the time after we moved to America.” 

Meg tilted her head, hands in her pockets as she walked alongside Nea.

“Really? Why’d you guys move?” 

Nea simply shrugged. 

“Don’t know, don’t care. Not like they really cared about my opinion anyway. I’d be gone for days and they wouldn’t even notice.” 

Meg frowned. Nea talked so _casually_ about it that it hurt. _How often did that happen?_ She couldn’t ask that, and wouldn’t. 

“Well, their loss. They didn’t get to know their really cool daughter.” 

She crossed her arms. It was similar to her own dad leaving her and her mother, but Nea had always known both of them, and they had at some point _stopped_ caring. The thought made her angry. 

“Don’t need them anyway.” 

Nea got to work carving her tag into the trees, Meg watching with interest. It seemed so fluid and natural, as if Nea was just writing her name. _Well, it is sorta her name, isn’t it?_ Nea seemed so happy being a pain in the ass, and Meg couldn’t help but love her for it. 

“Something you want? I can feel you staring.” 

Meg tilted her head. _Play it cool, Thomas._

“Well, yeah. I wanted to try tagging some stuff of my own.” 

Nea seemed surprised, standing up to face Meg. 

“Oh yeah? You don’t have a tag in mind, do you?” 

Meg grinned as an idea came to mind. She gave a casual shrug. 

“I have an idea.” 

Nea spun the knife in her hand, holding the handle out to Meg with a nod to a nearby tree. Meg took the knife, walking up to Nea and giving a quick kiss on the lips. Nea blinked in surprise as Meg took a step back with a grin. 

“That was my idea.” 

She handed the blade back, Nea taking it with a narrow gaze. She’s not mad, her cheeks are too red. Her grin widened as Nea crossed her arms. 

“Not fair.” 

“Aww, come on, you gotta admit that was good!” 

Meg scooped Nea up in a hug as Nea muttered. 

“Yeah, yeah it was..” 

Meg gently put Nea down, grinning widely. 

“Wanna help me come up with a proper tag name? I wanna have part of yours in mine.” 

Nea smiled, spinning the blade back around in her left hand and reaching to hold Meg’s hand with her right. 

“Come on, we’ll find a nice tree to test stuff out on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a request I got a bit ago, and totally forgot to save it. As an apology for that, this one features nothing but sweetness and a sweet little kiss. My [tumblr ](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/)is always open for requests/chatting!


	14. Homesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie misses home as Christmas gets closer, and she spends it with the only family she has in the Entity's realm.

Despite all that happened in the house with blood on the wall and the ‘Strode’ sign in the lawn, every time Laurie found herself in Haddonfield, she missed home. The simplistic form the Entity presented for the trials was nowhere near the same. Most of the time, she was able to move past it. Some days, however, she was particularly upset with the knowledge that she would never live a normal life again. 

She held her arms to her chest, walking through the woods quietly. Sometimes her situation just felt so _overbearing._ Even if she did return home, things wouldn’t ever be the same. Especially if Michael came home with her. She simply kept walking, trying to find some solace in the silence of the woods. Jake did it all the time, after all. 

She let out a sigh, cold air making her breath visible. _Was it almost Christmas?_ She shook her head slightly, missing home even more. The woods all the seemed the same, a fake snow created by the Entity that lacked any glistening sparkles. It was still soft and cold, but it wasn’t the same. 

The trees started parting, completely disappearing as Laurie came across a small clearing with a house in the center. She tilted her head, slowing her pace to a cautious creeping forward. _Why did the Entity bring me here?_ She looked over her shoulder back at the woods. The fog was too thick to even see, and a deep-seated instinct told her going back now would lead her back here. 

She sighed, walking up to the house’s door. It was already unlocked, and she cautiously crept inside. The living room was quiet, dark, and empty except for few pieces of furniture like a couch and end-table. She listened quietly, not hearing anything in the house. _It’s far too quiet._ She kept a wary lookout, eyes darting to the stairwell as she heard a faint creak. 

Michael paused mid-step down the stairs, holding a small box in his hands and staring at Laurie in obvious surprise. His mask was nowhere in sight. Neither Laurie or Michael moved for a minute, simply staring at each other before Laurie broke the silence. 

“..What are you doing?” 

He blinked, walking down the stairs and putting the box down on the end-table. Laurie walked over to peer into it, tilting her head at its contents. _Christmas lights._ She stared dumbfounded, looking up to Michael. 

“Where did you even get these?” 

He pointed at the sky twice, then raised his hands to shoulder level to simulate claws. She nodded once. The Entity did everything, really, even handing out holiday decorations. That didn’t exactly explain _why_ the Entity decided to even bother with holidays. Laurie couldn’t help a sigh. 

Michael pushed the box closer to her, taking out a string of lights to unravel. She looked down at the box, gently taking out a string of lights. She was so used to running for her life from her brother that now having the opportunity to decorate for Christmas with him seemed surreal. _Was this what a change of heart looked like?_ For some reason, that was the tipping point of her emotions before they spilled out, tears falling down her face. 

Michael threw the lights onto the couch, reaching out to Laurie. He hesitated, not wanting to make her more upset than she already was. _Did I do something wrong?_ He wanted to at least start trying to make up for all the pain he caused her. Everyone else be damned, she was his sister, and more important than anyone or anything else. He was going to stick to that now until time’s end. She stood in place crying, and Michael didn’t know what to do. No one really cried in his presence, they expressed anger or disgust at him. He stood where he was, freezing in the wake of thoughts on just what to do. 

Laurie kept her gaze on the floor, slowly reaching a hand up to wipe her eyes. She tentatively looked up, catching the distressed and concerned look on Michael’s face. It wasn’t the first time she saw the look on his face, but it still seemed so foreign. There was no denying it was so wholeheartedly genuine that Laurie had a hard time believing it to be a lie. 

She hated feeling so hurt and helpless, taking small steps forward to wrap her arms around Michael. She half-expected to feel a sharp pain in her stomach, but instead felt his arms around her shoulders and his head resting on top of hers. She buried her face in the fabric of the coveralls, letting herself get everything out. 

Michael patiently waited until she had stopped sobbing and calmed down, never moving or shifting his grip. When she shifted, he let go and tilted his head. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she took deep breaths to calm herself. 

“I’m okay. Promise. Just.. homesick.” 

She looked over to the Christmas lights strewn over the couch and box, giving a small smile. She then turned her gaze over to Michael, who was less distressed but still concerned. 

“We should get decorating, huh?” 

He relaxed and nodded, grabbing the string he had thrown onto the couch. She couldn’t help but smile as she strung the lights around the railing of the stairs while Michael strung the lights on the walls edges. She weaved the lights through the rungs of the rails, wrapping the extra length around the top. The box still held a string of lights, and Laurie picked him up with a grin. 

“We should put these up outside!” 

Michael turned around as he finished stringing the lights around the corners of the walls, nodding once. Laurie wrapped the lights around her arm to keep it from dragging on the ground, jogging out the door with Michael behind her. He reached for the string of lights, and she shook her head. 

“I want to put these up. If, you can give me a boost?” 

He tilted his head, nodding once again and walking to the wall with his hands interlocked. She took the boost up, instead climbing up to sit on his shoulders. Michael made sure she didn’t fall, walking around the house to let her attach the lights to the gutter rail. She let the plug of the lights hang when they had gotten to it’s very end, leaving Laurie to rest her arms on top of Michael’s head and admire their work. 

“It looks great.” 

Laurie felt him nod, shifting to gently set her down. She gracefully jumped off his shoulders without his help, walking around to view their work. Michael went to plug in the lights, green and red lighting up with a flicker. Laurie paused at the front of the house, hands on her sides as she let out a deep breath. Michael walked up beside her, attention on Laurie with a questioning look. She glanced up, then took a deep breath in with her eyes on the lights. 

She looked over her shoulder to the treeline, then back to the house. _There was no harm in staying a bit longer._ She took Michael’s arm and started to walk inside. 

“Well, we have a lot of catching up to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from tumblr, because sibling fluff is much needed.


	15. The Sake of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudette has a new resolution for escaping the Entity.

Claudette was an extremely selfless person. With her knowledge of botany, she could’ve easily gotten revenge on those who scorned her and they would be none the wiser. Even in the face of harsh words and insults, she always tending to the injuries of others. For all his silence, Claudette appreciated Jake’s nods of acknowledgement. He tended to show his thanks by keeping the Killer away from her, and she couldn’t have been more grateful for it. 

Every time he came back from a trial later than the others made her feel so pained, wishing she was always there to do more for him. Each time, he looked more and more tired, and spoke even less than he had. It was a quiet understanding that each sacrifice chipped away at a person more and more, even if they had all the reasons in the world to stay hopeful. 

She was watching the treeline with anticipation, waiting for Jake to emerge from the trees. The trial he had left for should be over soon. She had begged him to be more careful, being afraid of losing him. She held the medkit of botanical tinctures close to her chest, silently waiting. 

The rustle in the treeline made her sit up, scanning the figures that stepped towards the fire. She saw Dwight, Meg, and Bill walk out of the treeline. _Where was Jake?_ She jumped to her feet, jogging over to the others. She didn’t even need to speak for them to know her question, making them look between each other guiltily. 

“He’ll probably show up later, Claudette.” 

Dwight tried to reassure her. She nodded, quietly tending to their injuries. She couldn’t shake the pit of fear in her stomach. It was a difficult trial, based on how bloody and bruised the other three were. She didn’t like the idea of Jake getting the short stick and being left behind every trial. She shook her head, making sure the bandages were secure. It was just a matter of time before Jake would walk out of the woods. 

Except he didn’t. Not by the time the fog creeped close, beckoning her into it. She walked into it with a sigh, readying herself for another trial. When the fog cleared, she didn’t recognize the woods she found herself in. _A new territory of a new Killer._ Maybe this was why Jake didn’t come back; she had heard of Killers sometimes acting strangely, and keeping survivors alive in their domains. The trees were tightly packed, making her weave through trunks and the tangled undergrowth. 

The trees cleared and she spotted the small, worn cabin in the clearing. Like all the buildings in the Entity’s realm, doors didn’t exist, allowing Claudette to peek inside and see that it looked to be a simple, normal cabin. She stepped closer with cautious steps, listening for anything out of place. Her heart was racing, but she couldn’t tell if that was a warning of the Killer’s presence, or her own, genuine fear. She froze in the doorway, hands covering her mouth as she gasped and her eyes widened. She recognized that messy mop of hair anywhere. 

Jake spun around, a cruel hook and chain in his hands. His clothes were torn and muddy, and his eyes were a bright gold. He even had sharp teeth, visible as his lips pulled back to expose them. Claudette froze in place, staring in horror. Tears pricked at her eyes. 

“Jake? Oh God, Jake, no..” 

His grip on the chain tightened. She shook her head in disbelief. _This has to be some cruel trick._ Jake stepped closer, and it was then that Claudette saw the chain digging into his left arm, almost completely a part of it. The golden eyes on her were unwavering, almost devoid of anything. Claudette stood still, trying to blink the tears out of her eyes. 

“Jake, God.. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you..” 

Her words didn’t stop him from slowly walking forward. He looked so different, _so bloody and scarred._ He had always been stoic and calm, but seeing the blank expression now made her chest hurt. He towered above her now, stopping just a few feet in front of her with a tight grip around the end of the chain with the hook. She couldn’t help the tears falling down her face. 

Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest it felt like it would burst. She kept her gaze up at Jake’s face, trying to read any emotion at all. She heard a quiet sigh, and then his face softened. 

“Sorry.” 

His voice seemed so much more gravelly, much deeper than it was before, almost like it wasn’t meant to be used. She stiffened, bracing herself for the strike from the hook. She blinked when she never felt metal tearing into her skin. She heard the hook hit the floor, looking back up to see Jake simply staring, almost like he didn’t know what to do. She reached to wipe the tears from her eyes, shaking her head. 

“No, no, don’t be.” 

There was so much more she wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words to convey it. Typing on forums was an entirely different experience compared to talking to another person, where she didn’t have the time to fully think about what she wanted to say. She just closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around Jake and burying her face in the torn jacket. 

She felt gentle patting on her back, then a rumble from Jake’s chest. He gave her a tight squeeze, then let go and stepped back. 

“Go.” 

He picked up the hook, grip tightening around it. She let out a sigh. _Of course it can’t last._ She gave the best smile she could, standing on her toes to give Jake a quick kiss. 

“I’ll always love you.” 

He nodded in response, turning to leave out a window and continue on with the trial. Claudette rubbed her eyes, turning to find a generator. She took a deep breath, resolving to herself that she’d find a way to destroy the Entity, for the sake of others, and for the sake of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really cool request sent to me by a lovely anon from tumblr. Seriously, I didn't even think of this before. I hope this is equal parts cute and painful. My next story will without a doubt be posted on Christmas: as a special! But you can still come say hey [here!](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/)


	16. Living on Borrowed Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill doesn't leave people behind, especially when he cares about them.

The call of the fog was random, intermittent, and sometimes outright inconvenient. Ace took it all in stride, treating each trial as a new chance to test his luck and find new things. He enjoyed getting on the nerves of Killers, and leaving with shiny new toys to use on them later. This time, he was in Auto Wreckers Haven. He rolled his neck and got to work on a generator, keeping his attention alert for the Killer. He spotted Nea in the distance, coming over to the generator he was on. She gave a quick nod before getting to work. 

It didn’t take long for him to hear Bill’s cry of pain. _Unlucky._ He and Nea worked on the generator while Bill kept the Killer’s attention. Another cry of pain, and Bill was on the Hag’s shoulder. Not to mention she had Hex: Ruin. The Hag immediately took Bill to the basement’s hook, and Ace got up to go save him. Nea and the other survivor were still working on the generators. He spotted the Hag leaving the basement as he crouched down the steps, spotting the traps the Hag had set down. 

_Six is a bit overkill._ He heard another cry of pain, this time one belonging to Quentin. With the Hag’s attention on him, Ace quickly and quietly moved down the steps to get Bill off the cruel hook. With a silent nod, Bill let his injuries be patched up. Another scream of Quentin’s sounded out, and the two in the basement knew they needed to move. Ace ran up the stairs past the traps, knowing well that the Hag was busy. Bill moved behind him, staying near the doorway with the pallet still hanging in the frame. 

Ace moved around the shack to get behind the Hag, looking over his shoulder to see Bill slam the pallet in the Hag’s face and free Quentin from her grip. He couldn’t help but grin as Quentin ran away from the shack, albeit towards him with a possibly angry Hag after him. But instead, she broke the pallet and searched in vain for Bill who had slipped away. He could see her patrolling the area, darting her head in a direction when a thunderous boom sounded out. Ace laughed quietly as he tended to Quentin’s wounds. 

In the meantime, Nea had gotten two generators up and running, excluding the one they had been working on together. Despite the rocky start, things were going well. Ace wandered off to work on another generator, while Bill and Quentin worked together repairing theirs. Nea was keeping the Hag busy for now, her skill in evading danger coming in handy. Ace worked on the generator, the other two getting theirs up fairly quickly. It didn’t take him long to finish and hear the doors blare. He ran to the gate, hearing his heartbeat pick up in its pace. 

_I’ll be out by the time I get over there with Nea opening the gate._ The gate’s metal grinded together as it opened, and Ace made a run for it despite the Hag behind him. Claws sunk into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. _No one escapes death. Really?_ The pain was agonizing, and moving anything hurt like hell. Nea held a flashlight in her hands, shining the light into her face. The Hag growled, chasing after Nea with a newfound anger. Another thunderous boom meant another totem destroyed. 

He could sense Bill running over while Quentin opened the gate on the other side. The Hag must’ve felt some sense of urgency as she picked him up and started carrying him to a hook. Nea’s flashlight shined into the Hag’s eyes, making her turn around to face Bill with a flashlight in his hands. He struggled in the Hag’s grip even as she spun around, growling in rage in the attempts to avoid the bright lights. 

The hook tore through his chest, making him scream in pain. The Hag glared at him on the hook, refusing to move even as Quentin and Bill came around on either side of the hook, Nea waiting near the gate. These beasts were smart enough to realize when they were going to lose, and when to take whatever they got. She glared at the other two, not making any moves. _She’s waiting for them to get me off before slashing me again._

The other two picked up on this quickly, Quentin pretending to lift him up several times. The Hag made no movement, until Bill actually lifted him off the hook. The Hag swung at Ace, and the pain was still very real, but he was able to keep going, _somehow._

“Keep running and don’t stop, you can deal with the pain later when you’re not dead!” 

Bill shouted as he ran behind Ace, with Quentin beside him. As the three ran to the gate, Nea ran along with them. The claws of the Hag raked into Quentin’s back, but he didn’t stop running with the others to safety. They ran into the fog, Bill pausing for a moment to shout back. 

“HOW’S IT FEEL, PETTY FUCKING WITCH!” 

Ace heard the growl as Bill turned to run again, coming up to the campfire’s dim light. Claudette started tending to Quentin’s injuries, Nea had gone to rest by the fire, leaving Ace and Bill to find the nearest open spot and sit. Bill grabbed the nearest medkit, opening it without hesitation. Ace preemptively winced; it was going to _hurt._

“Shit’s gonna sting like hell, but you’re alive. Don’t wanna hear any bitching outta you.” 

Ace couldn’t help the grin despite the sharp pain at his back. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, you really saved me back there.” 

The bandages around his chest and stomach were tight, but he stayed true to his word and didn’t complain. It would heal soon enough, anyway. Bill put the kit aside, grabbing the cigarette from his mouth. 

“Not leavin’ anybody behind. Shit’s never flown for me, and it won’t start today. Got outta plenty of shitstorms by running on borrowed time.” 

Ace nodded, leaning forward and getting close to the fire’s warmth. Bill took a drag from the cigarette, letting out a deep breath. 

“Besides, Hag’s a bitch. Feels good to knock ‘er down a few pegs.” 

Ace laughed at that, nodding. 

“Yeah, yeah it does. Still, I appreciate it.” 

Bill stretched his leg out, working out his knee. He shrugged casually, turning his attention over to Ace. 

“Not leavin’ you behind, even if you can be a piece of horseshit.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Ace grinned, leaving Bill to shake his head. The soldier gave Ace a few light, reassuring pats on the shoulder before resting his hands in his lap. Ace scooted closer, absently staring into the fire and enjoying the peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by an actual match I had, where me and a friend played Ace and Bill, and the two randoms were another Ace and Nea. Said friend as Bill saved me from the basement via pallet drop, and we tag-teamed saved the other Ace with a good ol' flashlight rave and fakeouts, and of course, Borrowed Time. I changed myself from Ace to Quentin, because the real epic moment was the end of game save where we all ran out together. Seriously, awesome stuff. (And yes, she put six traps in the basement. Fucking six. No sympathy for destroying her in the match after that.)


	17. All I Want For Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Kingfield Christmas special!

Dwight enjoyed the snow falling from the grey sky, a change from the normal dreariness that surrounded the campfire. Christmas was fast approaching, not that he knew exactly when, but sometime soon would be fine for exchanging gifts and celebrating. The thought of the holiday approaching was heavy on Dwight’s mind. He wanted to get presents for the others, especially for David for saving him so many times that Dwight couldn’t count. There had to be _something_ in the Entity’s realm he could put together to fully convey how grateful he was. 

Dwight was sure David was too good for him. He had a blunt attitude, and could be antagonistic, but when David cared about something, he put everything into it. With the Christmas season approaching, Dwight wanted to do something nice and prove himself. He wasn’t all that special, but he could manage plenty of varying situations without stress. 

Dwight had vowed to himself to find some alcohol, a rarity in the realm of the Entity. He didn’t care for it himself, but the present would probably be something David would enjoy. Trial after trial, Dwight took back bits and pieces of anything notable to make an offering. A bottle from Gas Heaven, bits of leaves from Coldwind Farm, a paper to write on, and mud to make the paper stick to the bottle. 

The offering crackled and melted in the flames of the campfire, before it abruptly sputtered out and plunged Dwight into the darkness. When the fog cleared, Dwight was in the cornfield of the Rotten Fields. He immediately looked around, spotting Nea in the distance and Ace’s aura further away. Dwight started searching for a nearby chest, rummaging through the worn, ambiguous shapes that the Entity clearly put there to fill the space. 

His hand hit something hard, but not the plastic like in the flashlights or the metal of the keys. He grabbed the bottle out of the chest, grinning as he spun it in his hands. He stood and kept his grip around the neck of the bottle firm, determined not to drop it or lose it. _I just have to escape now._ With new resolve, Dwight focused on the generators. One already lit up, and he could sense Ace working on another. 

He took deep breaths to calm himself. He was normally nervous, but was still able to compose himself enough to lead the others. This time, there was a little more at stake that Dwight didn’t want to lose. The generator Ace was working on lit up, and soon after his own was powered. He felt the pit in his stomach, the fear of losing everything he had spent a little over a week putting together over hundreds of trials. 

He heard the humming before ever hearing his heartbeat race. He kept close to obstacles in the field, waiting for the Huntress to pass by before moving on. He heard her wind up a hatchet, and looked over his shoulder to spot the glowing eyes behind the mask. Without any hesitation, he got up and bolted as the hatchet slammed into the hay bales that had been beside him. She yelled in frustration, chasing after him with the axe in her hands. 

She gained quickly, throwing another hatchet at Dwight and catching his shoulder. He couldn’t help crying out in pain, but quickly bit his lip to stifle it. Another generator lit up, but the Huntress didn’t even flinch in her focus. He could distract her long enough to let the others finish the generators and open a gate, and then he would just have to make it out. _Easy enough, right?_ He knew how to keep a Killer busy around pallets. He clenched his fists tightly as he ran, determined to make it out alive. 

The last generator lit up and the exit doors blared as the Huntress’ axe slammed into his back while sliding across a pallet. He groaned in pain, crawling as close to the pallet as he could while he formed a plan. _I am not dying today._ The boards of wood shattered and splintered, the Huntress continuing her humming again as she reached to pick up Dwight. 

In a swift motion, Dwight grabbed the nearest board of wood and slammed it across the Huntress’ face, catching her off guard as she staggered and groaned, then roared with anger. Dwight took the opportunity to get up and run, as painful as it was. She shouted at him now, in a language he didn’t understand, but it wasn’t hard to tell that she was incredibly upset. He ran for the red lights in the distance, zig-zagging between rocks, trees, and walls to avoid another hatchet. 

His heart kept pounding as he ran, seeing Nea and David in the exit gate. His thought was immediately to hide the bottle, _he couldn’t go to all this effort to have the surprise wasted._ Almost on cue, the Huntress’ hatchet soared through the air, embedding into Dwight’s forearm and make him drop the bottle. 

The cry he let out was more of frustration than of pain as he heard the unmistakable shatter of glass. The pain was second to the anger of having gone to all the effort of making this happen, only to lose it in a single second. He heard David running towards him, shouting with his usual anger. 

“Oi, Rabbit bitch! Fuck off!” 

Her attention shifted, and she chased David off as he ran back into the cornfield. Nea wrapped Dwight’s injuries with bandages, keeping her attention wary for the Huntress coming back. Their gaze snapped to the fields as they heard David scream, and Dwight could tell the Huntress had caught him and put him on a hook. He moved to go back and save him, but Nea stopped him. 

“She’s not gonna move, we gotta go or die too.” 

The thought only made Dwight even angrier. He glared at Nea, letting out an annoyed breath. 

“I’m not leaving him behind.” 

Dwight looked back to where David was hanging, seeing the wordless motion that the Huntress wasn’t leaving, and going back would nearly be suicide. Despite it all, Dwight walked back towards the field and toward the cause of his racing heartbeat. Nea grabbed his injured forearm, making him wince. 

“We don’t have a choice, unless we all wanna die too.” 

“Let go of my arm.” 

The stern tone in his voice caught Nea off-guard, but the shock of it only lasted a moment on her face. 

“We’re leaving, whether you want to or not.” 

“I said. Let. Go.” 

The two stood there in a silent staring match, even as Nea’s hand dug into his injured arm. Without warning, she suddenly yanked Dwight towards the exit and past the barrier the Entity allowed them to stay before finding themselves at the campfire. The campfire materialized in front of Dwight, making him shout in a release of every emotion. He spun around, getting in Nea’s face. 

“YOU LEFT HIM TO DIE!” 

Nea shoved Dwight backwards, staring back with a cold, bitter calmness.

“Don’t fucking get in my face.” 

Dwight felt his face getting hot with anger. He wanted _so badly_ to hit her, to take it out on her for making him leave David behind. He felt like a failure, a week of preparation gone in an instant, and leaving David to die was the last straw. He took a deep breath. 

“Don’t you _ever_ think of doing that again.” 

He didn’t wait for her response, instead turning around to walk into the woods surrounding the campfire. He’d be back eventually, the Entity made sure of that, but he needed to clear his head and be alone. His arm was red and already bruising from Nea’s grip earlier, shaking his head and looking up to the sky. _Fucking idiot._ He felt so _worthless, so painfully average and forgettable._

He held his injured arm tighter as he felt tears forming. He felt terrible, trudging through the snow to just walk. He wanted so badly to prove he was more than a nervous wreck with no real skills in anything but hiding. All the others had unique skills they had mastered, and Dwight’s was to guide the others in what they already knew how to do. He sunk to the ground next to a tree, resting his head against the bark. He was still hurting, Nea had patched him up enough to only stop the bleeding. He couldn’t think about healing himself, when his thoughts were on David. _What is he going to think and say? That I abandoned him?_

He shook his head, trying to stop thinking like that. It wouldn’t help at all, and he didn’t want to be pitied because he was hard on himself. Even still, that didn’t stop his anxiety, afraid that David would decide that he wanted better. 

He slowly looked over to the rustling of bushes, squeezing his arm as he noticed the familiar jacket and David walking out with bloody bandages wrapped around his chest. _This is it. He’s going to be upset at me and break up._ He took deep breaths, waiting for David to speak up. The other kneeled down next to him, head tilted slightly. 

“You doing okay? Nea told me you stormed off on ‘er.” 

Dwight couldn’t help the scoff. 

“She leave out that she shoved me, too? We had an argument. Didn’t wanna talk to her more.” 

David laughed, grinning like nothing was wrong. 

“Oh yeah? I gotta teach you to throw a good punch sometime.” 

Dwight smiled weakly, trying to relax himself. David’s expression immediately shifted to one of concern. 

“You been crying? Th’fuck did she say to you? I’ll kick her ass into next fuckin’ week if you want.” 

Dwight shook his head. _Well, might as well let it all out now._

“W-we had to go. I didn’t want to leave you behind, you save me almost every time I get into trouble. I was trying to get a present for you, I spent a week getting stuff together to offer to the Entity to let me get it, and the Huntress broke it just feet away from the gate. I wanted to do something nice and surprise you, but I can’t even do that. I’m not special, and I.. I was afraid you weren’t going to want to be with me.” 

Dwight let out a breath. David sat with his arms crossed. 

“Dwight, d’you think I’m a fucking idiot?” 

“What? No! God, no!” 

David reached to grab Dwight’s uninjured arm. 

“Then why th’fuck do you think I don’t know what I want? I don’t give a shit what the others think. I want to be with you, and that’s not fuckin’ changing. I protect you because I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. You don’t ‘ave to get me anything, only thing I’d miss is you.” 

_He’s way too good for me._ Dwight felt the tears stream down his face, prompting David to pull him close. David’s hand was rubbing his back, trying his best to be comforting. 

“I don’t want a perfect superhero, Dwight. Just remember that. Besides, you smacked the Huntress across the fucking face! That was amazing.” 

Dwight nodded, letting out a laugh. He felt ridiculous now, but still enjoyed the comfort. 

“What was the gift, anyway?” 

“It, uh, was a bottle of alcohol. I don’t know if it would’ve been good or not, but, I was hoping.” 

David grinned, breaking into a laugh. 

“I don’t miss goin’ to a pub that much. But, I appreciate it, babe.” 

David gave Dwight’s cheek a quick kiss, leaning back to smile. Dwight rubbed his face, clearing the tears away. 

“Well, I thought it’d be a nice surprise. But.. oh well, I guess. Can always try again, just won’t be in time for Christmas, I think.” 

“Doesn’t matter much t’me. Just keep yourself safe, yeah?” 

Dwight nodded, moving to stand up. 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, David.” 

David nodded, a wide grin forming on his face. 

“Now, how’s about a bit of fun?” 

Before Dwight could respond, David took a handful of snow and compacted it to a snowball to throw at Dwight’s face. He wiped it away, the Entity’s recreation being just as cold and soft as normal snow. With a grin, Dwight grabbed a handful of snow himself. 

“Oh, you’re on!” 

Instead of throwing it, Dwight reached to shove snow down David’s shirt. The undignified yelp made Dwight laugh hard. 

“You little shit’ead! C’mere, you!” 

David lifted Dwight off the ground with ease, walking to the nearest snowbank despite Dwight’s squirming. 

“No, don’t you dare!” 

Dwight was unceremoniously dropped into the snow, leaving a hole where he had fallen through. David jumped into the bank alongside Dwight, taking a large handful of snow and sticking it into Dwight’s shirt. 

“DAVID, IT’S COLD!” 

Despite the shouts, he was laughing the entire time. 

“YOU DID TH’SAME TO ME, THIS IS REVENGE!” 

Both of them were laughing, wrestling in the snow. By the time they made their way back to the campfire, their cheeks were red, and David’s jacket was around Dwight’s shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the posting of this Christmas special, I wanted to say that all the love and support is probably one of the best gifts I ever could have asked for from readers. Seriously, it's so humbling and heartwarming to read every single word of love and support, and I am super thankful for it. I am not exaggerating when I say it keeps me motivated to write. I've written fanfics in the past for different fandoms with little to no feedback, so I am eternally grateful for every single comment, no matter how long or short it is. I hope you enjoy this Christmas present from me to all of you.


	18. Kind Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna wants to teach Sally a few things, to ensure she is never desperate again.

Anna had lived most of her life in solitude, her knowledge of the world one rooted in survival in the woods she called home. There was plenty she didn’t need to know, and didn’t care to learn with her current life hunting survivors in trials. The grounds of the trial became her territory, and she’d hunt anything in it until she was the only thing moving. It was a lie to say the Nurse didn’t intrigue her. The Entity whispered bits and pieces of information about the teleporting being, but clarity seemed just as elusive as the Nurse herself. 

All Anna could piece together was that she had strangled hundreds of people at her breaking point, and that was what brought her to the Entity’s realm, and that she had been at the asylum out of desperation. The latter was something she didn’t understand. _How could that happen?_ Survival was the reasoning, but Anna could do that without snapping as the Nurse, Sally, did. 

Anna made it her goal to seek out Sally and talk to her, as best as she could, do find out the truth. She respected the other, being one of three women in total in the Entity’s cast of Killers. The nurturing nature in her was brought out by Sally and Lisa’s company. Despite the endlessness of the Entity’s forests, Anna felt entirely at home. The trees parted to reveal a modest, simple home. 

Anna knocked on the door to the home, stepping back as the door swung open in an instant. Sally’s voice was stern and irritated. 

“Yes? What do you need?” 

Anna tilted her head. _Should have brought food._

“Just questions. Don’t have to answer.” 

Sally seemed to sigh, gesturing Anna inside the simple home. The interior matched the exterior, with only a few pieces of furniture made of wood. Anna could tell they were hand-made. 

“Made these?” 

Sally closed the door, turning her attention to the furniture. 

“I didn’t. My.. late husband did.” 

Anna nodded, running her hands over the arm of the chair. _Well-made._ She pulled the chair out to sit, hands in her lap as her mother taught her. Sally moved to sit on the opposite chair. 

“So, you wanted to ask me some questions?” 

“Yes, about past life.” 

She seemed irritated again, rolling her head back. 

“Didn’t the Entity tell you about the Asylum? Seems to be common knowledge around here.” 

Anna shook her head. 

“No, not that. Had to survive, I understand. But, why that? No hunting?” 

Sally seemed to relax, the tension in the air dissipating as she leaned back in the chair. 

“At the time, I didn’t have any choice. A simple, desperate widow with no way to pay for food or the home I lived in? They were the only place I could go to. Hunting wasn’t an option for me.” 

The tone of Sally’s voice was so despondent that it made Anna’s heart ache. It hardly seemed fair, for such a thing to happen to someone who really just wanted to live their life. Anna stood up, walking over to give Sally a tight hug. 

“Teach you. Never again.” 

It was no secret to herself that she cared about Sally, and hated seeing close companions so hurt over something she could do something about. She released the hug and stood tall, beckoning Sally out of the chair and outside to begin. The other laughed, standing up and following. 

“The Entity’s given me plenty of abilities to help that. But, I’ll still see what I can learn from you.” 

Anna smiled, walking outside and grabbing her hatchets from her side. 

“Precision means life or death. Important to know target.” 

She winded back a throw, tossing the hatchet at a tree branch near the top of the tree and slicing a branch clean off. Sally let out a ‘huh’, staring in awe. 

“Beasts and humans sometimes more dangerous when afraid. Need to know when to keep distance, and when not to.” 

Sally nodded. Even with her knowledge of the patients at the Asylum, Anna’s words held true. Patients that were afraid were harder to deal with; they jumped at every sound and more often than not assumed it to be hostile. 

“Human beings can be very irrational beings. Especially some of the survivors we track down.” 

Anna nodded once, smiling widely under the rabbit mask. It was endearing. 

“Most dangerous game. Humans can adapt, improvise. Never the same. Makes hunts fun and exciting.” 

Sally admired Anna’s mindset of these trials. She herself had grown a disdain for being forced in the same area as survivors that sometimes reminded her all too well of her days in the Asylum. Yet, Anna never shared that dread, the anger to be sent to trial. Instead, it was almost a child-like excitement, when new toys were bought to play with. Sally found herself nodding slowly. 

“I really do like the way you think about all this.” 

Anna tilted her head, trying to gauge any expression even with the cloth mask Sally had around her head. She put her hatchets at her side, walking close again. 

“All live here now. Have to find things to enjoy.” 

With a quiet sigh, Sally let herself look around. As much as she might not have wanted to admit it, this was her home now, and sacrificing survivors was simply part of it. She wrapped her arms around Anna, floating enough off the ground to be level with her. 

“I.. suppose I’d forgotten that. Thank you for coming by, Anna.” 

Anna squeezed tightly, but the motion was more comforting than painful. She felt Anna’s chest rumble as she laughed. 

“Anytime! Will always come by when wanted.” 

Anna pat Sally’s back gently, then released the hug and grabbed her axes and hatchets. She started walking into the woods, looking over her shoulder with a smile. 

“Will bring food next time. Promise.” 

Sally nodded and waved, realizing that the Entity’s realm wasn’t so bad with people like Anna alongside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Killer/Killer request from tumblr! I had a bit of a struggle finding a good voice for them, so I hope you all enjoy this! I'd appreciate any ideas about them or any other Killers and characterizations. As always, I'm happy to chat over at my [tumblr!](http://queenevaine.tumblr.com/)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huntress brings some new tricks to a trial, and David and Dwight get to deal with it firsthand.

The Red Forest tended to be unsettling, the dark woods surrounding the homes that held rotting, smoking carcasses and small bodies. None of the maps were comfortable, but the Red Forest was one David hated. But, he didn’t necessarily have to like it, so long as he and the others survived another trial. _Especially Dwight._ He knew the leader was in the trial, but he hadn’t seen him yet. 

David got to work on a generator, determined to get them up and running quickly. The beginning of a trial was always the most tense, before the Killer revealed themself. It was nearly a minute of silence before his and two other generators lit up all at once. It was far too quiet for anything good to be happening. He held a a flashlight in his hands, just in case. 

He heard the humming, softly at first. The Huntress was most definitely chasing someone. He spotted Meg’s braids and let out a quiet sigh of relief. She was more than capable of handling herself. David moved to another generator, spotting the machine nestled among trees. He heard light footsteps behind him. 

“Hey, seen the Killer yet?” 

He heard Dwight’s nervous voice, secretly relieved he hadn’t even seen her yet. He nodded over to the generator. 

“Huntress, she’s after Meg right now. Just got this one and another one and we’re out.” 

Dwight nodded, kneeling down to work on the generator. The distant humming wasn’t too far out, but they were alright for now. Their generator lit up, and without more than a few seconds of hesitation, the humming grew louder into a heartbeat. The hatchet flew through the air, faster than David could react, and sunk into Dwight’s arm. 

A mix of anger and fear rose in David’s stomach. The last generator lit up, the gates lights shining ahead of them. He pushed Dwight in front of him, running to the gate. His heart raced faster as the Huntress trailed after them, screaming in anger. She lost track of them in the mess of rocks, trees, and fallen logs. He and Dwight crouched behind a log, keeping a wary eye out as she searched. 

David noticed when Dwight started swaying in place, trying to support himself against the log. Something’s wrong. The Huntress’ humming still was in his ears, especially with Feng sneaking around and opening the door bit by bit. Normally, he would go and distract the Killer, but he was not leaving Dwight as he panted for breath. The waiting was eating at David. Eventually and thankfully, Feng managed to get the door open as the Huntress went to get more hatchets. 

She was coming back, and she’d undoubtedly find them this time. In a swift motion, David lifted Dwight into his arms and close to his chest, placing Dwight’s arms around his neck as he made a dash for the gate. He heard a hatchet fly past him, disintegrating when it hit the invisible barrier. David kept running into the fog, not stopping until he came to the campfire. Dwight was limp in his arms. 

“Oi, Claudette! Need ya right now!” 

Claudette darted her attention over, grabbing her kit of botanical tinctures, bandages, and supplies rummaged from medkits. David gently set Dwight down, whose head lolled back as he struggled to stay conscious. David sat next to him silently as Claudette worked. 

“He’ll be okay, he just needs plenty of rest. It was Huntress, right?” 

David nodded, and Claudette wrapped up Dwight’s arm. 

“Thought so. The hatchets had poison on the axe heads. I don’t know what kind this is exactly, but I know how to treat it still.” 

She stood as David nodded once. It hurt him to see Dwight so vulnerable and weak and to hear the pathetic whines that came from him. Taking great care not to hurt him further, David lifted Dwight into his arms, positioning himself behind Dwight to hold him close. Dwight’s head fell against David’s chest. He kept his grip firm, not moving an inch as the others came to the campfire, and even when he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this spur of the moment, mostly to tease someone over Discord for five hours. 100% worthwhile. But, as a result, I don't have a title really for this bit of Kingfield.


	20. Shut Up and Stay Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace and David have to hide from a Killer and get out alive.

The Suffocation Pit, Ace knew, held a deeper story than what he was able to see. A large group of workers buried in its depths, bodies probably still there under compact dirt. Every now and then, the pits would be open, leading to a bloody basement with a cruel, untouchable shrine of hooks to the Entity. The part that Ace always looked forward to was the chest, which tended to hold better things than the other chests around the area. 

However, he knew better than to immediately start looting, he had to at least do a generator or two, keep the Killer busy a little, and make a contribution to the team effort. He knelt to work on a generator, hearing the distance whirring of a chainsaw. That meant either Leatherface or Hillbilly, and the former didn’t usually have any reason to randomly rev his. He was nestled into a corner surrounded by obstacles, so Ace was unafraid as he kept working. 

The match was going well for him so far, getting a generator up without any interferences, and calmly moving on to another. There were only two left to do now. Someone was either really skilled at juking the Hillbilly, or they were all hiding from him well. Now was a perfect time to go looking for loot to bring back. He slowly walked through the building that held the mineshaft, cautious as his heart started racing. 

He looked over his shoulder and spotted the chainsaw above the Hillbilly’s shoulder, charging straight at him. Ace scrambled through the side entrance out of the way, hearing the chainsaw collide with the wall behind him. The Hillbilly recovered with an alarming speed, chasing after Ace. Ace just had to make it to the window, and he’d be able to lose the Hillbilly without issue. He was halfway through the window when the Hillbilly yanked on his leg, making him hold onto the window ledge for dear life. 

The sledgehammer smashed into his leg, and Ace swore he could hear something shatter. He cried out loudly in pain, using his other leg to kick at the Hillbilly and free himself. He more or less fell from the window, holding his left leg that was most definitely broken. The Entity normally didn’t allow that to happen, the chase was ruined if one couldn’t even run. Being helpless like this was not something Ace liked, at all. 

Then the Hillbilly turned around and went elsewhere. Ace grit his teeth in a forced smile as he watched the Hillbilly leave and his heart rate calmed. He grabbed the window ledge to help him stand, any pressure on his left leg sent a sharp, agonizing pain through it. _Alive, at least._ Yet, he couldn’t explain why. It was difficult to avoid the settling paranoia, there was no fixing his leg until he either escaped or died. It didn’t take a genius to realize that. He’d slow them down at best, and at worst, they’d use him as a distraction. It depended too much on who it was. 

He hated it, having to watch his back for both survivors and Killers. They could lead the Hillbilly to him, whether by accident or on purpose, and he had to stay hidden. He walked around the rocks and other garbage in the way, heading back into the mineshaft. He could find something to at least give his leg support, and be able to walk on it. It’d be agonizingly slow, but it was better than the slow limp he was working with now. He froze when he heard footsteps, hiding under the ramp that lead above the depths of the mineshaft. 

“Ace, I know you’re ‘ere.” 

_Shit._ He kept a forced smile, even as his leg screamed in agony when he set it down. David turned the corner, eyes narrowed on Ace. 

“You seriously lootin’ right now?” 

Ace gave a shrug. 

“You all were doing fantastically. Thought I’d go and get something to bring back.” 

It wasn’t an entire lie, but not what he was doing right now. David crossed his arms. 

“Riiight.” 

Ace’s attention darted to the pathway up as his heart started racing. David moved under the wooden ramp, Ace pressed his back against the wall. Through the wooden planks, they could see the Hillbilly walk above them and look around intently. He walked past, heading to the window Ace had fallen out of earlier. Ace shifted, the motion sending more pain through his leg. He almost screamed, until David clamped a hand over Ace’s mouth. 

“Don’t move a single fuckin’ inch.” 

David shoved Ace behind him, keeping his grip on Ace’s arm tight and his hand over Ace’s mouth. The Hillbilly walked back over to them, moving right past them and into the basement. Ace stayed still, even as the Hillbilly came back. Somehow, by some unnatural luck, they weren’t spotted. Neither of them moved until their heartbeats started slowing. David released his grip, putting his arms at his sides. 

“Thank fuck ‘e can’t see shit.” 

David started walking up the mineshaft, pausing when he heard a whine from muffled whine from Ace. Ace held his leg, still keeping up a grin. 

“Sooner we leave the better, yeah?” 

David crossed his arms. 

“Yeah, s’always the case. But, you can’t walk, can ya?” 

“Sure I can.” 

Ace took a step forward, wincing at the pain he felt. 

“Just gotta take my time. I’m still standing, aren’t I?” 

Ace struggled to keep the fear from making his voice crack. This was, by far, one of the worst situations he found himself in. David rolled his eyes. 

“Sure, barely. Don’t bullshit me, you’re gonna get caught if you keep trying to walk on that.” 

David, without warning, walked close and lifted Ace over his shoulders. 

“OW, hey! David, put me down!” 

“Shut it, you’ll lead ‘im right to us! Besides, I’m trying to save your arse instead of leavin’ ya to hobble slower than a damn snail. Unless you feel like meeting chainsaw today.” 

Ace sighed. _Hard to argue with that._ He let himself fall limp as he was carried across David’s shoulders fireman style. His leg still hurt, and any shift seemed to cause more pain. 

“Just, don’t let the others see me over your shoulders like a ragdoll?” 

“Fine, since your pride’s more important than your life.” 

He huffed, not really wanting to argue more. He’d have plenty of time to piss off the scrapper when he wasn’t at his mercy. He felt David shift, and heard the distant dings of generators coming online. The gate’s switch lit up red. 

“Settin’ ya down, careful.” 

Ace nodded, leaning against the wall and staying off his left leg. He couldn’t see it under the pant leg, but there was no way it was looking pretty. He fought back whines of pain, keeping an eye out for the Hillbilly. The gate slowly opened after blaring several times. Using the wall as a support, Ace walked through the gate. David crossed his arms, walking next to him. 

“Almost as stubborn as I am. Th’fuck are you tryin’ to prove?” 

“Nothing, besides that I’m fine and can take care of myself.” 

“You’re a royal fuckin’ moron.” 

Ace couldn’t help a genuine, devious grin. 

“Aww, you think I’m royal. Appreciate it.” 

David let out a drawn out, annoyed sigh. 

“It’s real damn tempting to beat the shit outta you.” 

“Sorry, I’m a little booked at the moment. Maybe later?” 

David just shook his head as he walked into the fog, Ace following behind him. When he reached the campfire, Ace let himself collapse next to it and let out a breath of relief. His leg still hurt, but now he had the chance to look at it. It was already a distinct purple color. David walked over, eyes widening slightly. 

“Shit, didn’t think the Entity did broken bones that bad.” 

Ace simply shrugged, giving a pained smile. 

“I didn’t either, but.. Hey, the more you know, right?” 

“Sit still, I’ll get Claudette to try ‘nd patch that up.” 

Ace nodded, catching his breath. Now that adrenaline wasn’t running through his veins, it was painfully clear how much damage the hammer did. Claudette was in a sprint when she came over, kneeling beside him. 

“Oh, God, this looks really bad. I’ll have to really put something together. Just, wait here, okay?” 

In an instant she was gone, leaving David to sit beside Ace. The latter let out a sigh. 

“Thanks.” 

David smiled, giving a light pat on the back. 

“Don’t mention it. Would do the same any day, even if I wanna smack ya.” 

Ace leaned against David, laughing quietly. 

“I’ll try not to do that to show my appreciation.” 

David just shook his head, holding Ace close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another kind request that I took in my own direction with the request (them hiding from a Killer). Hope you all enjoy it!


	21. Territorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake protects what's his.

Even in his home in the woods, Jake was intensely protective over what was his and his alone. That didn’t change when he was in the Entity’s realm, and when he had become a Killer himself. He didn’t care for the other areas of the Entity’s, but he always did what he had to do. _Except when it came to Claudette._

He couldn’t ever bring himself to hurt her. The Entity, at first, had urged and pushed him to every time he saw her. He stayed as far from her as he could, until the Entity seemed to at least accept there were some aspects of Jake it could not break. It was a slow and cautious transition, getting closer and closer until he could safely hug her, comfort her, and apologize for everything he had to do. He had long since stopped apologizing when each time was met with a firm ‘Don’t apologize, I’ll find a way out for both of us.’ 

She was always so selfless, so committed to the wellbeing of others even if she got nothing in return. Jake admired her for it. It was harder each time to let her go, when he wanted nothing more than to keep her close, keep her _safe._ She was her own person, but Jake didn’t want to be away from her sweet smile and gentle laugh, from her for even a second if he could. 

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He had a trial to focus on. He walked quietly through the forest he knew too well, even in it’s twisted recreation. Jake had made sure that everything was just as he remembered, excluding the shack, basement, and other objectives littered around. It didn’t take him long at all to spot the familiar pinkish shirt, or for her to spot him. She gave a small, adorable smile, then continued on to leave Jake to keep searching. 

He found the loud, careless footsteps of David easily. He was a scrapper, a dirty fighter, not a hunter or survivalist. Jake was never fond of David’s penchant for being loud, obnoxious, and always trying to start something that would end badly for everyone. They were a team working together, not enemies to be fought. _Were._ He started spinning the chain in his right hand, looking for David to sink the claw on the end of the chain into. 

Instead, he found Nea. He assumed it was by accident, Nea was far too quiet and skilled at prowling around undetected for him to find her so quickly. _Typical, careless David._ He almost felt bad, if Nea wasn’t so abrasive and rebellious for the sake of it. He had a wide, animalistic grin on his face as the chain flew from his hands and around Nea’s leg, the claw sinking in to her flesh and yanking her towards him. By the time the chain got loose, and he properly held it in his hands again, it was too easy to swing at Nea’s back. 

The laugh he let out was more like a growl. It felt _good_ to be able to take every frustration out on them. The worst they could do was blind him with a flashlight, or to stab him in the shoulder that only stopped him for a few seconds. He only paused in trying to pick her up when he heard Claudette’s voice in a yelp of pain. It was so soft, it could have been a simple trick of the forest. He knew better. 

He immediately turned to the source of the sound. He slowed himself and listened carefully, knowing full well he wouldn’t make their hearts pound just yet. 

“You and your special damn treatment. ‘E’s a fuckin’ Killer now, Claud! There’s no savin’ that!” 

“I’m not giving up on him. It’s still _Jake._ There has to be a way to-” 

“You aren’t fuckin’ gettin’ it! There’s nothin’ left to save!” 

“Ow! David, let go!” 

The moment he heard Claudette yelp in pain again was when the growl came from his throat. _How dare he touch her, and **hurt her.**_ He gripped the chain tightly, winding it up and throwing it at David when he came into view. With a yelp, David was dragged to the ground in front of Jake. The chain in his hands was held against David’s neck to suffocate him. His knee pressed into David’s chest, keeping him pinned. He was so, _so angry._

He felt Claudette’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s okay! I’m okay, he didn’t hurt me. I promise, I’m okay.” 

Jake hadn’t even noticed he was growling, David limp underneath him. Claudette’s hand moved to Jake’s cheek to turn his head towards her. 

“Really, I’m not hurt. I was just surprised.” 

Slowly, Jake stood. He turned his attention from David to Claudette, who held his face in both hands and pressed her forehead against his. He heard the Entity’s whispering in his ears, in annoyance as it wanted him to continue on with the trial, to kill the others. Jake took a deep breath, resolving that he’d make up for it later. _You’ll **pay** for it later_ , whispered clearly and harshly in his ears. The Entity’s whispering then quieted, leaving Jake to his own thoughts. 

He gently picked Claudette up, walking to the small cabin in the middle of the woods. He would enjoy the time he had with her, still upset despite her consolations. He set her down on the bed in his cabin, sitting next to her and brushed his thumb across her cheek. She gave a small smile. 

“I appreciate you taking care of me, but I can protect myself, too.” 

Jake let out a quiet whine. He _knew_ she was a capable woman in her own right, but that didn't stop the desire to keep her from everything that would want to cause her harm. Claudette gave him another heart melting smile. 

“I know, and you know I appreciate everything you do for me. I just don't want you to always worry.”

 _Always thinking of others._ He pulled her into a hug, head resting on top of Claudette’s. He could feel her laugh and wrap her arms around him. It was so tempting to never let her go, and spend the rest of his time here. He felt the Entity’s influence around his home, and then nothing. _Trial was over, best not waste time with a Killer who isn't killing._ He held Claudette closer, concerned deep down that the Entity would take her away, too. He was relieved when it didn't, and she was still in his arms. 

“I can stay for awhile. I miss having the time to spend with you like this.” 

“I do too.” 

Jake shifted to lay on his back, Claudette resting her head on his chest. The cabin was comfortingly silent except for their breathing. Jake closed his eyes with a deep breath. The Entity didn't control everything about him. And as far as he was concerned, he belonged to Claudette just as she belonged to him. 

Nothing would stand in his way of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a request, but I had to do more of Killer!Jake and Survivor!Claudette.


	22. Happy New Year!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year celebrations!

The passing of time was something that rarely held any meaning in the Entity’s realm. Every day was just as the last one, with no distinct changes except for the rare moments in which the Entity decided to be festive. It had been several weeks since the monotony was broken by the sudden snowfalls, allowing for winter festivities. The New Year had to be coming up soon, they figured, and why not celebrate and have fun? 

Dwight was put in charge of organizing everyone’s roles to put the party together. Nea, Ace, and Feng were in charge of gathering firecrackers, while the others helped keep those three safe in trials to make sure the firecrackers weren’t lost to the Entity. 

At the fire, Jake helped Dwight set up a pinata ball to crack open when the New Year started. Quentin and Laurie helped decorate with makeshift lights around the edges of the campfire. It didn’t take long for a large pile of winter-themed firecrackers to gather. _All because of my fantastic luck_ , Ace kept saying. 

The party pinata was filled with makeshift treats, with sweetly worded cards and wooden hearts that David and Bill worked on carving. With Dwight’s guidance, most of the preparations were done well before they had scheduled to have their party. They sat around the campfire, waiting eagerly for the official start. _‘We put too much effort into this to ruin it by starting too early!’_ Claudette kept scolding. They passed the time by chatting and hoarding more firecrackers if they were sent into trials. 

Dwight, Feng, and Quentin talked about home, and of the video games they grew up playing. Jake and Ace listened quietly, almost entirely confused as the three talked about their consoles, agreeing on almost _nothing_ until Feng called Nintendo a ‘child’s game company’, which got both Dwight and Quentin fiercely defending the company. Laurie watched attentively, sighing to herself as she realized just _how much_ she was like a babysitter again. She swore they were ready to go at each other’s necks. 

Meg was getting antsy, and decided to run off with Nea to vandalize the Entity’s domain for fun. Claudette kept herself busy with her botany work, while Bill and David roughhoused at the edges of the fire. Dwight looked around, slowly standing and suddenly gaining everyone’s attention. 

“Almost! Just a few more minutes. Let’s get all the firecrackers ready.” 

In an instant, they crowded around the stockpile of firecrackers, grabbing as many as they could. They waited eagerly, finding spots clear of each other and obstacles. After everyone was ready, they grinned widely as they counted down in near unison. 

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.. HAPPY NEW YEARS!” 

In a bright show of flashes, the fireworks exploded into the air. The chorus of cheers and shouts resounded in the air, the pinata being cracked open and cards thrown into the air. Dwight swore that everything seemed a little bit brighter, more cheerful, and not just because of the festivities. Even trapped in the Entity’s realm, it wasn’t as bad if he were truly alone, without the friends he had made here. It was almost a good thing; they never would’ve met without it. 

Cracks of light seeped down from the sky, barely noticeable among the flashes of the fireworks. It didn’t take long for the festivities to devolve with a thrown snowball from David, instigating a massive snowball war with tentative alliances and cold, frozen betrayal, all the while filling the air with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years! Enjoy this little short thing in commemoration. I also wanted to say, thank you all sooo so much for the love and support. I'm eternally grateful, and the comments and kudos really motivate me to keep going. So thank you all, and I hope that 2018 is brighter than the past years for you all. I'll have an extra sappy post up over on my tumblr!


	23. Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill is used to being a sacrifice for his friends.

It had been all of two minutes into the trial, and already it was going horribly. David had been hooked twice already, and Quentin had been hooked once in the process of saving him. Ace had been stabbed several times, and Bill even moreso. Ace knew not every time could go as well as he liked, but this was something else. They had managed two generators in the time it took Myers to sacrifice David, and to hook Quentin again. He and Bill also had gotten hooked, but Quentin was determined to help save both of them when he could. 

Another generator, another sacrifice, and Bill and Ace were both on their last leg. Another hook would instantly catch the Entity’s attention, and there would be no saving after that. Normally, Ace was extremely selfish when it came down to it, keeping himself hidden and would go to find the hatch if the opportunity presented itself. But, this time, it didn’t feel right. 

It was no secret to himself that he was fond of Bill. The Soldier was a gruff, take-no-shit kinda guy, but Ace still found it endearing. The bluntness was nice. When his heart began to race, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and resolved to the fact that he was going to die. _Fine. So long as someone escapes. Better luck next time._

He broke into a run, his heart pounding as Michael chased after him. He could see the red stain on the ground around him, urging him to run faster before Michael could impale him on the kitchen knife again. He rounded a collection of rocks and trees before he felt the sharp stinging in his back, making him stumble to the ground. 

He let out a strained cry, panting as Michael walked away. _No! Come back and hook me, damn it!_ Ace’s heartbeat slowed, and he cursed under his breath. The silence was almost deafening as he lay still, hoping that Bill had found the hatch. Ace had accepted his death, so long as the soldier got out alive. He tensed, seeing the all-too familiar aura creep closer. He wasn’t running, that was a good sign. 

He was only somewhat relieved to see Bill emerge from around the rocks, reaching down to pick him up off the ground. 

“We gotta move it. Follow me.” 

Ace nodded, every muscle in his upper body screaming in pain. He didn’t like showing anything but a knowing sense of confidence, but the pain was too much for him to bear alone with a smile. They crept past bushes, trees, and rocks, staying on high alert for any sign of the blank, white mask. Ace turned his head when Bill suddenly stopped in a clearing, his heart sinking to his stomach. _The hatch._

“Bill, I’m not-” 

“One of us ain’t makin’ it. That’s just th’fact of it. I’ll be damned if I let th’ fucker walk away without a good punch to the gut.” 

“Bill, please-” 

Without another moment of hesitation, Bill ran towards the Killers shack, towards Michael in the distance. Ace had to hide, not let Bill’s heroism go in vain. Even still, the thought made Ace so upset and angry. _God damn it, Bill! Heroics don’t get you anything!_ He let out a deep sigh, recomposing himself. He was always on top of his emotions. He blinked several times, hiding behind a tree and waiting patiently. 

He tightened the grip on his shoulder when he heard Bill shout in agony, followed by the thunderous crashing of the Entity being summoned. Heat welled in his face, having to consciously stop himself from digging nails into his shoulder through his shirt. When the door to the hatch swung open, he ran for it. He swore he could see Michael’s eyes before descending into the darkness of the trapdoor. 

 

A few minutes of walking led Ace back to the campfire, considerably more tired than in the trial. He kept a thin smile, masking the emotions he felt. _So fucking stupid._ He spotted Bill on the outskirts, forgoing any medical attention to storm over to him. 

“You and I need to have a chat.” 

The stern tone of Ace’s voice caught Bill off guard, combined with the sudden pull on his collar. When Ace had walked far enough to not see the light of the campfire, he stopped. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?” 

Bill crossed his arms. 

“Savin’ your ass? The fuck did it look like?” 

“You think _heroics_ is what we need here? That’s how you get yourself killed.” 

“Like you were much better, don’t gimme that horseshit!” 

“We both know I should’ve died and you should’ve left!” 

Ace got in Bill’s face, holding onto the collar of Bill’s jacket tightly. Bill pushed Ace back, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

“I’m not leavin’ your ass behind! Quit your bitchin’ and cryin’ about it!” 

It didn’t take a genius to realize the glare under Ace’s sunglasses was so acidic it could have melted metal. Bill glared back, fists clenching at his sides. 

“Don’t tell me how to live my goddamn life, Visconti!” 

“QUIT THROWING IT AWAY AND I WILL, OVERBECK!” 

“YOU DON’T WIN THIS GODDAMN BATTLE!” 

“YOU DON'T WIN BATTLES BY DYING!” 

The two glared at each other, neither moving an inch as they faced up. Neither one was willing to back down. 

“YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WINNING MORE THAN LETTIN’ OTHERS LIVE?!” 

“YOU THINK I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU?! STOP PAYING FOR EVERYBODY ELSE’S MISTAKES!” 

Ace let out a sigh, the pain starting to catch up with him. 

“God _damn_ it, Bill! Can’t you fucking get how much it hurts to see you do that shit for people every time you should live?” 

Ace took deep breaths to recollect himself. Bill’s tension eased somewhat, putting the cigarette back in his mouth. 

“I’m not changing a goddamn thing about what I do. I’ve lived a hell of a lot longer than I thought I would, and somethin’ to keep fightin’ is what I want.” 

Ace fell silent. _What could anyone say in response to that?_ He made his throat sore from shouting at the top of his lungs, and his shoulder still ached from the stab wounds. Ace just shook his head, turning to walk back to the campfire without another word. He only stopped when he felt the firm grip on his arm. 

“Cool it. I’m not trying to make a goddamn fuss about it. I protect the people that aren’t so full of horseshit I wanna pummel ‘em to dust. Always how I’ve been.” 

Ace looked over his shoulder slowly, then up to the sky in resignation. Finding the words for something had never been more difficult. Bill kept his grip on Ace’s arm, guiding him back to the campfire with unexpected gentleness. 

“Come on, gotta patch up that shoulder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another match I had to transform into a piece of writing. Me and two other people were playing with a random (Bill) and the last Ace player was saved from bleedout, then Bill led him to the hatch and ran off like a hero to distract Michael. Michael actually could've killed Ace, but respected it. It was actually really sad because we weren't in voice with the Bill, he beckoned Ace, then pointed at the hatch and ran off. There might've been some tears.


	24. Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight, Jake, and David work well as a team, and have to keep it from falling apart.

Jake always felt that he, Dwight, and David worked together well as a team. While David distracted the Killer, Jake was able to sabotage the hooks they were sacrificed on. Dwight’s presence alone was enough to guide his hands to the right spots, while Dwight worked on generators. Dwight was better than he gave himself credit for, but the three of them still worked efficiently together. 

Of course, not every trial goes according to plan. Jake heard the humming of the Huntress from near the start of this trial in her home territory, the Red Forest. He quickly started moving, hoping to find any other survivor to work on generators. The unnerving chill up his spine told him there was a hex totem active, the Huntress’ Lullaby. He kept on the move, calming when he no longer heard the humming. 

He nearly ran into David, who had been sprinting towards him. David stopped abruptly, while Jake simply sighed. 

“You’re going to get tracked by her, you know.” 

David crossed his arms, giving a proud smirk. 

“S’what I do. Seen Dwight?” 

At the shake of Jake’s head, David nodded. 

“Better keep an eye out for him, then.” 

The two moved to work on a generator, not hearing any sign of the Huntress. The generator lit up, and the two moved on to another, pausing when they heard a familiar scream of pain. 

“That fuckin’ bitch..” 

Without further hesitation, David ran off towards the source of the noise. Jake jogged after him, hearing the chilling tune the Huntress sang. He took a quiet breath, moving to the nearest hook to take it apart. Whoever their fourth was, they were extremely efficient. Another generator was done, leaving three left. Neither Jake or David had found Dwight by the time the third generator lit up. 

_Where even was he?_ There was only so much space in the forest, and Jake considered himself a good tracker. _Was Dwight that skilled in staying unseen?_ The thought made Jake’s heart ache for the leader he had come to known and care for. It was obvious that Dwight was naturally nervous, but he had always come through for the others. He had to make sure Dwight was okay. 

Another generator lit up, and the silence was starting to become deafening. He no longer heard the Huntress’ hum. He continued working on the hooks, getting them inches from falling apart. In the distance, he saw David on the other side of a pallet, undoubtedly shouting obscenities at the Huntress on the other side. Dwight would be fine, so long as there were no hooks. Jake kept to work. 

 

David hated these Killers. He was fine with them having weapons, the whole thing being unfair, all of that was fine. It was when they hurt the people close to him that he got pissed. And they liked doing that _a lot._ He had no problem starting fights with the odds against him for their sake. He liked the saboteur’s silent attitude, but at the same time had no problems stating his mind. Dwight struck him as a bit of a nervous wreck, but he meant well and worked hard to keep everyone alive. _Leader can’t lead if they’re dead._ And he was determined to keep it from ending up that way. 

He had found the mangled, broken frame before anything else. The sense of dread and anger that washed over him made him pause, delicately picking up the frame. Somehow, the lenses were still in the frame, albeit cracked and with a small splatter of blood in the corner. David had stuffed the glasses in his jacket pocket, running towards the source of the humming. He had cut her off at a pallet, slamming it down on her face. 

“Oi, Rabbit broad! Eyes on me!” 

She loudly groaned, shattering the pallet to pieces and chasing the scrapper. David was used to dodging things being thrown at him by now, easily moving past the flying hatchets. She suddenly stopped in place, holding the last hatchet in her hands. David kept his distance, but not enough to lose sight of her. 

“Th’fuck’s your deal? Throw it, blind bitch!” 

Her attention stayed on David, then darted up and past him. David saw the change in focus, breaking into a run towards her to try and grab the hatchet himself. The reaction was too late as it soared through the air, and Dwight cried out in pain. David was thoroughly upset now, the only comfort being the sounds of generators powering. 

“PISS OFF, WILL YA?” 

David swung at the Huntress, bruised fist connecting with her stomach. She hunched over only slightly, growling. David turned to run the opposite direction with the Huntress’ focus on him. The sirens of the Gates blared, and David started counting the time in his head. He felt the sting of an axe slicing his back as the Huntress got close. When a little over a minute passed, David started running for the gate as the Huntress restocked on hatchets. 

He weaved back and forth, making himself a hard target. The axe came dangerously close to coming down on his leg before he ran with everything he had past the threshold of the gate. The others were undoubtedly back from the trial by now. A narrow escape typically gave David a rush, but he was far more concerned when he walked up to the fire and spotted Dwight _covered_ in blood and shaking. 

 

Dwight was simply glad to be alive. A hatchet to the side of his head should've easily spelled the end of him, but the frames of his glasses had taken most of it. They had, of course, broken and fallen off his face, but at least he had gotten away from the Huntress. It hurt badly, especially when blood streamed down the side of his head. 

He swore getting hit again was sheer misfortune, being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Blurry silhouettes were his only indication of who was who, and he hadn't seen David run over with her. The hatchet buried itself in his side, digging so deep that Jake had to pry it out with both hands. He felt himself getting dizzy, thankful Jake was able and willing to carry him out. 

Back at the campfire, Dwight wanted nothing more than to lie down and not move. Everything _hurt_ and the world around him seemed to only keep spinning. Even breathing made his side hurt, eliciting quiet whines. He shuddered as Jake held him close and he felt the pressure of Jake's hand digging into his side. 

He was only barely aware of David next to him, the blunt accented voice was unmistakable even as Dwight’s head pounded. His breaths were uneven, even though he tried to steady himself and not bring the others down in taking care of him. He had already been enough effort to get out alive, he just needed to rest and he'd be okay. _Right?_

He didn't need to see the expressions on everyone else's faces to know he looked downright pitiful. He buried his face in Jake's jacket and weakly grabbed onto the fabric. He was between Jake and David now, quietly settling in between the two. 

The sudden sting at his side made him tense with a gasp. The antiseptic burned, and Dwight’s natural reaction was to get away. He felt Jake's arms tighten around him and the gentle rubbing at his back. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself quiet as Jake and David tended to him. 

 

Jake _hated_ seeing Dwight this way, and he could quite obviously tell David hated it, too. David tensed like a wound spring when he was upset with no one to take it out on. Despite that, David was incredibly gentle as he patched up injuries. Jake noticed every single subtle wince when Dwight twitched at the touch. Jake only loosened his grip when bandages were being applied. Dwight looked so weak and small, even though Jake knew they were very similar in size. David broke the silence. 

“Next time we see that bunny bitch, I'm choppin’ that mask up with ‘er own fuckin’ ax.” 

Jake smiled ever so slightly, nodding once. He had no doubts David would actually try to do that. Jake let out a soft sigh, attention wandering back to Dwight. David followed the gaze, scooting closer to the two. David took his jacket off and set it over himself and Dwight as Jake followed suit and all three of them settled in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ParKingField request from tumblr! They cuties, man.


	25. Looks are Deceiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin is much more capable than he seems.

Quentin still wasn’t sure what had happened in that nightmare to bring him here. The burning determination to see Freddy dead, that he had been the one to do it had saved him from a clawed death, but was this place any better? The benefits he found at first was that Freddy was here with him, and that Nancy was safe from him for good. Quentin would make sure of that. 

But here, there were other monsters, other people that needed his help. Sometimes these trials had them against Freddy, but more often than not he encountered different beasts. He was used to keeping a wary eye out, even in his persistent exhaustion. 

The only thing he despised about the other survivors was how they treated him like a young child, to be protected and shielded. Too many times, he had seen another survivor grab the Killer’s attention, putting themselves so far into harm’s way for Quentin’s sake. It felt like a backhanded slap across the face, like he wasn’t _capable._ Feng never bothered out of selfishness and a determination to ‘win’, and with Laurie.. There was something in her eyes that told him she was in a similar situation, and he was sure she recognized the same in him. 

When he entered another trial, he couldn’t help but sigh quietly. No Laurie or Feng this time, but with David, Claudette, and Dwight. The first two were some of the _worst_ about babying him. He knew they meant well, but it was irritating to be treated as an incapable child. He took a deep breath, getting to work. 

He learned the rules of these trials quickly. Do generators, and the gates will get powered to open and escape. That was the simplest way to put it, not including the complications that could happen. The wires of the generator matched together in very specific ways, and it took a fair amount of time to get them all working. He kept looking around, listening attentively for any trace of a racing heartbeat. 

He heard a generator light up, but the silence was starting to bother him. Then he heard the faint, distant singing of young voices. _Freddy._ He heard Dwight cry out in pain, and immediately got up to go find him. The others could work on generators, as evidenced when another one lit up. The singing got louder as Quentin stepped closer, and he could see both Dwight and David asleep. David had Freddy’s attention, based on the acidic glare he was giving. 

First, he had to wake Dwight up, and discreetly ran towards him and beckoned him into the bushes of the Shelter Woods. He clapped loudly several times, Dwight blinking his eyes open with a look of shock. Quentin started patching up the slashes on Dwight’s back, too familiar with the wounds. 

“Thanks.” Dwight mumbled, Quentin just nodding with a smile. “Yeah, gotta look out for each other here.” 

Quentin turned his attention around, trying to find where David had gone. The generator he was working on before powered up, and he noticed Dwight moving to another one. Quentin heard the singing get louder, and David’s cry of pain. He spotted the injured scrapper running around a pile of logs, and ran to catch up with him. 

“Go, this way!” 

“Th’fuck are you doing? Go get a generator, let me handle the walkin’ swiss cheese!” 

Quentin felt himself getting drowsy, eyes struggling to stay open. He ran in line with David, looking over his shoulder as Freddy flickered in and out of his vision. 

“Damn it, kid! I got this!” 

Quentin blinked, and the fog around him became almost blindingly bright with his heart racing. Claws raked along his back as two generators powered and the gates sirens blared. He heard Freddy’s footsteps moving faster, and Quentin knew he needed to run. He saw Claudette behind a tree, and hoped that Freddy hadn’t spotted her. He and David split up, with David running towards Claudette in. 

He swore quietly as he saw Freddy put Claudette to sleep, barely missing David as he dashed past. Dwight got the gate open, he could see it just past the maze of trees and rocks surrounding the burning barrel. He stared at the fire for a moment, then to Freddy chasing David and getting dangerously close. 

“HEY! IT’S ME YOU WANT! I’M RIGHT HERE!” 

Freddy turned, a devious grin on his face. Quentin slowly took several steps back, Claudette and David running towards the exit and stopping to turn towards Quentin. Freddy walked closer, drawing his hand back to slash at Quentin. David and Claudette’s eyes widened as Quentin stuck his hand in the burning barrel, grabbing a log and jabbing it at Freddy’s face. 

Freddy shouted in pain and rage as Quentin shook his hand of cinders, still holding the log as he turned to run. 

“Come on, let’s go!” 

Dwight ran out as Claudette, David, and Quentin ran to it. With Freddy on their heels, Quentin turned again and slammed the log against Freddy’s right arm, watching the cinders burn through the bloody sweater. Quentin let go of the log, letting it fall to the side as Freddy recoiled, then ran into the fog with Claudette and David. When they came to the campfire, the others looked to Quentin and the burns on his hand. He sat down, pulling a medkit out of the stash of items and tending to it. Claudette sat down next to him, taking the kit. 

“Here, let me.” 

He nodded, holding his arm out to her. Somehow, his hoodie was untouched. David had his injuries treated by Dwight, walking over to sit with the campfire to his back. 

“That was pretty impressive, kid.” 

Quentin sighed, looking over to David. 

“Trust me when I say I know how to deal with Freddy. I’ve killed him once before. Look, I get that I’m still pretty young, but you guys don’t give Laurie the same treatment. I’m not an incapable little kid.” 

Quentin turned his palm upwards to the sky as Claudette guided it, the others growing silent. He shook his head. 

“I’m not trying to make you guys feel bad or anything. Just.. I can contribute just as much as anybody else. I know what I’m doing.” 

David took a quick breath, crossing his arms. 

“Don’t expect me t’quit protecting you as a whole, kid, but I’ll give ya a little more credit.” 

“That’s all I’m asking for.” 

He flexed and relaxed his hand as Claudette finished bandaging it up. Quentin stood and smiled to David and the others, carefully resting his hand in his pocket. David grinned widely as he eased. 

“Gotta admit, that was some fuckin’ amazin’ shit back there. Wouldn’ta thought of doin’ that.” 

Quentin shrugged with a smile. 

“Well, it wasn’t the best plan I’ve ever come up with, but it worked out well, right?” 

David laughed and stood to pat Quentin on the back, moving closer to the campfire. 

“Damn right it did! Gonna ‘ave to try that sometime.” 

Quentin laughed quietly, moving to sit against the log and get some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request for some badass team savior Quentin, so naturally he stuns everyone and isn't even phased. Such a good, determined boy.


	26. I Swear To God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David needs to watch where he steps.

Dwight knew that sometimes, there were just bad days and bad trials. The never ending fight for survival was exhausting, and someone couldn’t always perform their best if they had been in trial after trial. He tried his best to guide the others to victory and survival, wanting nothing more than the survival of his friends. 

But then there was _this trial._ It was him, David, Ace, and Bill against the Trapper in the Groaning Storehouse. Bill and Ace stuck together for the most part, Ace focused on getting generators up and running. When Dwight stepped in a trap, his eyes widened and he knew this trial was going to be rough. His heart started racing as the Trapper came closer, opening the trap with his foot and lifting Dwight onto his shoulders. 

Dwight squirmed in the Trapper’s grip as he was carried downstairs into the basement: the worst place to be taken in a trial. He screamed in agony as the hook tore through his chest. Even if he got used to the trials themselves, the pain was still very real every time, even if it should have killed him. 

He heard the Trapper placing the cruel bear traps down around him, even as the Trapper went upstairs, but he couldn’t tell where they all were. He heard someone rush down the steps, relieved when he saw David. 

“Oi, we gotta run.” 

Dwight was lifted off the hook, nodding. 

“Careful, there are a lot of traps.” 

David nodded as their heartbeats began picking up in speed. They ran up the steps, avoiding the traps at the top and bottom of them. They split up to run in different directions, but Dwight paused when he heard the distinct _snap_ of metal, and David’s shout. 

“Fuckin’..”

“I warned you there were traps!” 

“Yeah, you didn’t say there were fuckin’ FIFTY EITHER!” 

Dwight turned around and ran over to David, opening the trap to free David’s leg. He couldn’t leave the scrapper behind, even as his heart raced and the glowing eyes of the Trapper came into view. Immediately Dwight ran to the other window, hoping David could at least get away and recover. He was fine with taking one for him, until he heard another distinct snap. 

“MOTHERFUCKER.” 

This was gonna be a _long_ trial. The cleaver came down across his back, and in no time Dwight was back in the basement, struggling against the Entity. David was put on the hook opposite of him, limply hanging. He could tell that David was _seething,_ even if he couldn’t see him. Bill came running down the steps, unhooking Dwight first. They took the brief moment to patch each other up after they unhooked David, Dwight taking a deep breath. 

“Watch your step, Bill. Plenty of traps around.” 

Again they ran up the steps, heartbeat pounding as they stepped out of the basement in the storehouse again. David ran to the nearest window, groaning as yet another trap closed on his leg. Bill got the Trapper’s attention as Dwight freed David. 

“Seriously, watch your step. We can’t get caught again.” 

David huffed, vaulting through the window and shouting in pain again. 

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME? ANOTHER ONE?!” 

It would have been hilarious if he hadn’t been running for his life. Instead, he just sighed, carefully jumping through to undo another trap. In the meantime, Ace had gotten several generators up and running. With Bill keeping the Trapper busy, Dwight did what he could to patch up David’s leg. 

“I think that’s all of them, but we should still be careful.” 

David grumbled, walking away from the worn down storehouse. Dwight looked over his shoulder to see if he could spot Bill, but the soldier was long gone. He turned and walked behind David, reaching out to grab his arm. 

“David, wait-”

 _SNAP!_

“David, I swear to God-” 

“SHUT IT AND ‘ELP ME OUT.” 

Dwight shook his head, undoing the trap and patching up David’s leg again. He was almost surprised that David could even still stand on it. They heard Bill shout out in pain, and Dwight could see that he was being lifted onto the Trapper’s shoulder. He moved to go and help, before being stopped by David. 

“Go do a generator. Don’t want ya gettin’ caught and dyin’.” 

Dwight bit his lip. He _was_ on his last hook, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving anybody behind. David pat his shoulder lightly. 

“Just stay ‘idden if you do come by, yeah?” 

With a nod, David was off. Dwight looked around, following after as Ace got a fourth generator running. He almost felt bad that the gambler was doing all the work, but leaving anyone to die was out of the question. Bill was hooked in the basement, and Dwight saw the gigantic form of the Trapper leave and David’s quietly walk down the steps. 

He stayed on the other side of the window, watching the Trapper carefully set more bear traps. David unhooked Bill and ran up the stairs, the Trapper turning around to investigate. David took a hit for Bill, running through the gaping entrance and into yet another bear trap. _God damn it, David._ Bill turned his attention around, shouting at the Trapper to distract him. Despite his attempts, the Trapper was unphased, picking David up and carrying him to the basement. 

Dwight stayed quiet as he heard David’s scream, Bill vaulting through a window and running. The Trapper stared at the ground as he came up the stairs, running off in the direction Bill just went. When his heartbeat slowed, Dwight climbed through the window and down the stairs. David grit his teeth as he struggled, eyes darting to Dwight. 

“Th’fuck are ya doin’?” 

“Saving you, come on!” 

The two ran up the stairs again, this time avoiding where the traps had been set so far. Neither one stopped until their heartbeats calmed down and they were able to safely catch their breath. The last generator powered on, and they immediately looked around for the exit gates. Both of them on the other side of the map, where they had just come from. After Dwight patched David up for.. Who even knows how many times now? They ran to the nearest gate they saw, hoping Bill was alright. 

Dwight could see the light of the switch before metal snapped close around his leg. Nearly instantly, his heartbeat started racing. David stopped, turning to kneel and undo the trap. 

“David, you need to run.” 

“And leave you? Fuck that.” 

Dwight could feel his head pounding from the racing heartbeat. 

“David, go! GET OUT OF HERE!” 

Dwight pushed David away and towards the gate as he saw the Trapper come closer. David stood and ran, quietly leaping through a window. _Thank god._ Dwight was lifted from the trap, and entirely expected to be taken to the basement again. Instead, the Trapper held Dwight up by his neck, holding against the wooden wall by he exit. Dwight felt the Trapper’s hand tighten around his neck, and flailed to free himself. He swore he saw annoyance in the Trapper’s glowing eyes. 

His vision started to blur, and panic set in. His body fell limp as he couldn’t breathe and black spots starting creeping in. Somehow, this was _worse_ than being hooked. And then, all at once, the pressure was gone from his throat and hit the ground like a ragdoll. He was lifted over someone’s shoulders, running towards the gate. 

The crackling of the campfire was a very welcome sound. He was set down gently, now realizing the person who carried him was David, and had his hands gently cupping Dwight’s cheeks. He was saying.. _Something._ Lip reading was not a strong suit of Dwight’s. The shake of David’s head was barely noticeable. Instead, David sat next to Dwight and wrapped his arm around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request for Kingfield, but the setting/events I used was inspired by a match I had with some buddies from tumblr who I share a Discord with. Our David stepped in like, 7 traps, two at the same window. Dwight didn't step in any, and Bill actually stepped in 2. I was the Ace working on generators, because fuck that trap noise. All in all, it was hysterical.


	27. Breaking the Facade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace has a really bad day, courtesy of the Doctor.

Ace Visconti always smiled, no matter the circumstances. Even a hook through his chest or his throat being ripped out didn't take that away. It was part of his charm. He knew the gravity of his ever-present smile, and how it inspired the others, albeit quietly. He didn’t fully trust the others, but he trusted them enough to have their backs in trials, and occasionally give them a nice item he found in a chest. 

That didn’t mean he trusted the others enough to share more than that with them. They were only people he knew because of their circumstances, they never would have met at all. Ace was just a little cautious, knowing full well what desperation could drive some people to do. He was too clever of a man to be taken down by naivete. 

Being in trials against the Doctor made it worse, when even Jake, the Iron-Willed loner, would scream at the slightest provocation of electrical “treatment”. Ace tended to stay away from the others, he would rather be caught because of his own slip-up than one of someone else. But that tended to lead to either very quick trials, or very strenuous ones. This one was of the latter. 

It hadn’t even been that long and already someone was dead on a hook, and the other two were in states of madness and hysteria. Ace kept as far from them as he could. Someone had to keep working on generators if they wanted to survive. By the time he completed his, another person was on a hook, struggling with the Entity. He shook his head, moving on to another generator. 

He heard several more screams as he worked. The consolation was that when he finished this generator, he could find the hatch and escape. He was only half done when he saw the third survivor on the hook, failing their attempts to escape themselves. The static started to build around Ace’s feet, and he silently cursed. 

He couldn't stop the shout he let out, breaking into a zig-zagged sprint. He needed to get away, and _fast._ His heart raced faster and faster. He looked briefly over his shoulder and saw the white coat, muttering _shit!_ under his breath. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He quietly vaulted through a window, gasping as he felt a hand on his leg. 

He was yanked to the ground, smacking his forehead on the brick wall he was climbing through. He heard the Doctor rubbing his hands together, and he tried to crawl away. There was no offering for a memento mori, the Doctor wasn’t supposed to be _able_ to simply electrocute him. He saw the faint glow around a totem not 10 feet from him, and he sighed with annoyance. Of _course_ there was a Hex. 

And even with Devour Hope active, the Doctor didn’t kill him just yet. Ace felt the electricity surge through his body, making every muscle twitch and convulse against his will. It was a terrible feeling, to not be in control, and Ace _hated it._ He cried out in pain, trying to push himself to his feet. 

Another shock made him fall to the ground again, this one stronger than the last. Was the Doctor _testing him?_ He just wanted it to _stop._ He struggled to catch his breath, keenly aware that his mind was starting to play tricks on him. He rolled onto his back, staring wide-eyed at the Doctor behind his sunglasses. _When had he started panicking?_ The question was quickly put aside as _god knows how much electricity_ surged through his head. 

He fell limp as his eyes closed. _Was he dead?_ He stayed still, hoping that if he wasn't, he would be left alone. He didn't know how much time passed before he opened his eyes and slowly sat up. 

He was in a completely different forest than in the trial. _Why do I still feel like I'm going crazy?_ Outside of trials, madness didn't affect survivors. There wasn't any _point_ to screaming like a lunatic with no Killers around to pick up on it. His breath was shaky as got up and looked around. He just had to walk to the flickering light of the campfire and he could calm himself and recover. 

Every step he took towards it felt more like a step backwards as the light got farther away. _Was he imagining all this?_ He shook his head, looking around and noticing Claudette and Quentin walking through the woods. 

“Hey, Claud! Quentin! Wait a sec!” 

It was like he hadn't spoken, with how neither of them even flinched. He had to be going crazy. Or were they _upset? Were they in the last trial?_ Ace didn't know. He jogged to catch up. 

“Hey, did you hear me at all?” 

Claudette turned, and Ace swore he had _never_ seen such a look of disgust on her face. He faltered, pausing as she simply walked on. No, he had to be going insane. That just wasn't like her to be so cold. But maybe he deserved it? He left the others to _die_ in the trial. Ace shook his head again, trying to convince himself that his mind was playing tricks on him, that he was hallucinating. 

But what if it _wasn't?_ He took a deep breath, rubbing the sides of his head. He blinked and saw the campfire not even 5 feet away. _Where had that been before?_ He turned to walk in the other direction, letting himself wander in the surrounding forest. He had to clear his head, first. 

David, however, had spotted him and walked into the forest to check up on him. David reached out to grab Ace's attention. He took a surprised step back when the other spun around with a grimace. 

“Don't touch me.”

“Th’ fucks got you wound up?” 

“I just need time to myself.” 

David scoffed, crossing his arms. 

“Bullshit. You took one look at the fire and then walked off. No charming bullshit or anythin’. Somethin’s got you real bothered and some ‘time to yourself’ ain’t fixin’ it.” 

_He’s going to be upset when he learns what you did._ Ace’s voice echoed in his head. It was no secret to the others that David was a part-time debt collector back home. He sometimes bragged about the people he ‘coerced’ into paying. Ace trusted him the least, being a sometimes in-debt gambler himself. His mind raced with thoughts of panic, how he couldn’t trust David and being here, alone with him, was going to end _terribly._

“Just a little rattled. I’ll cool off and come back fine.” 

He just wanted David to _leave him alone._ But even that was too much for a stubborn scrapper who enjoyed a good fight. 

“Not ‘appening. Th’fuck happened, Ace?” 

“Mind your own business, King.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, the tone in his voice so venomous that David was caught off guard, then his expression turned into one of anger. 

“Fuck off, Visconti. I’m askin’ cause we’re all worried about you, and you say it’s your own business? It’s all our business if you’re gonna sulk and mope the entire damn time and not say a single fuckin’ word. Spill it: what th’fucks your problem?” 

Ace let out an annoyed sigh, eyes narrowing as he glared at David. 

“I don’t owe any of you shit.” 

David took a step forward, staggering backwards when Ace shoved him. 

“Fuck off, King. Head back to the fire.” 

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You tryin’ to piss me off, or are you just doin’ a real fantastic fuckin’ job of bein’ a bastard?” 

Ace saw how David’s fists clenched, all too eager to hit something. _He’ll beat the hell out of you when your back is turned. Just wait._ Ace’s eyes darted past him to the campfire, noticing now they were being watched by all the others. _How long had they been there?_ And not one made a move to stop what was happening? Were they _enjoying this?_ David stepped closer again, sure that he was going to get a punch in the face. _Strike first._

He reached for the nearest branch and whipped it across David’s face. He shouted in pain, a red line quickly forming across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The barely restrained sigh was the clearest indication that David was pissed. He moved surprisingly quickly, swinging at Ace’s face and hitting the sunglasses clean off his face. 

He knew he was not going to win in a fight with David. Everything was screaming to run, to escape, but he’d be right back at the campfire. This was an inevitable he’d have to face. He spun the branch in his hands, aiming to stab David in the shoulder with it. David caught his arm, making him drop the branch. David caught his other arm when he attempted to punch him in the side. 

“CALM TH’FUCK DOWN, WILL YA?” 

“LET GO OF ME, DAVID!” 

Even in David’s grip, his arms shook. Fear, anger, hysteria settled in like a thick fog. He hadn’t even noticed Bill jog up beside them, forcing himself between their conflict. 

“Quit the horseshit, both of ya!” 

Ace let out a long breath, swallowing afterwards. His heart was pounding in his chest, thoughts still racing. David grit his teeth. 

“Tell that to ‘im. Freakin’ the fuck out on me for no fuckin’ reason.” 

Bill had simply looked over to David, who shook his head and walked back to the fire. Ace caught his breath, cautiously turning his gaze over to Bill. 

“Alright, do you wanna explain what’s got you so goddamn riled?” 

Ace crossed his arms, gripping his upper arms tightly. He was at least thankful that Bill kept his distance. 

“..No. Not really. Just the Doctor messing with my head.” 

Bill shrugged, turning around to walk back to the fire. 

“Sure, come back to the fire whenever you feel like not snappin’ and beatin’ the everliving hell outta somebody.” 

Ace watched Bill walk off, then turned to grab his sunglasses that _somehow_ weren’t broken and walk deeper into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a story I was talking about the idea with a friend over on tumblr, and how they portray Ace in writing. I just sorta adopted it and rolled with it in this story. Hope you enjoy!


	28. Painful Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake likes staying quiet, but sometimes it's because of sheer pain.

Jake was normally a quiet individual, and the other survivors quickly got used to it. He didn’t talk unless he felt like he needed to say something. The others talked plenty anyway, and he enjoyed simply listening. He was somewhat envious of the louder ones, and how they simply talked about whatever was on their mind. Jake still struggled with speaking his emotions and feelings, especially when they made him flustered beyond belief. 

He was an expert at keeping his expression neutral, but internally he was a constant mess of emotions that he didn’t know how to convey. It was obvious to him that Dwight had a crush on him. He noticed the stares, the small smiles, and the flustered panic when Jake turned his head. He didn’t want to push the leader, who was already a nervous wreck, but it killed him to not be able to convey his feelings either. 

Jake showed his feelings in actions, keeping others safe by sabotaging the hooks and ultimately, keeping the Killer distracted. He would safe and heal the others when he had the chance, not really one to do generators often. Not because he didn’t know how, but because he rarely got the chance. Seeing Dwight nervously thank him with reddening cheeks was definitely worthwhile. 

This trial was in the swamp, the decrepit pantry in the distance making him sigh. It was an unsettling place, but Jake simply shook his head and starting working on the hooks to leave them inches from falling apart. So far, things were quiet. It would have been settling to him if there wasn't a murderer hunting them down. He spotted Dwight as the generator he was working on powered up, and Feng went running off to another one. 

“Oh, Jake! I didn't know you were right here.” 

Jake waved his hand loosely, calmly beckoning Dwight along. 

“Seen the Killer yet?”

Dwight shook his head. Not knowing made Jake nervous, but he wasn't about to show it. All they knew was that they offered something secret, and based on how quickly he found two others, it wasn't a shroud of separation. He kept close to Dwight, ready to push him out of view if he spotted the Killer. They came across another generator as the second one powered on in the distance. Jake kept his eyes alert at the surroundings, yanking Dwight behind him when he spotted something. 

Dwight quietly yelped, opening his mouth to speak when he saw what Jake pointed to. A triangular carving in the mud. They walked around it, working on the generator it stood as a sentry for. Things were rough for the other two, Ace and Feng constantly trying to heal each other and stave off death on a hook. 

Dwight and Jake were able to get the generator running and quietly walked off. Jake noticed Dwight’s eyes focus on something in the distance, lifting his hand to bite his nails. 

“Feng just left him.” 

Dwight sounded so terrified, and Jake couldn't blame him. Feng liked winning, even if that meant cutting her losses and leaving people to die. Jake took hold of Dwight’s arm. 

“I'm not leaving you. Don't worry.” 

He didn't like Feng much. _Too obsessed with winning something that isn't even a competition._ But he wasn't too concerned, he'd finish generators and escape with Dwight, or die to make sure the leader survived. He felt Dwight flinch when Ace cried out in pain, and the Entity’s limbs stabbed through him. Jake's grip on Dwight’s arm moved to hold his hand. 

“We're making it out of this. I promise.” 

“Right. Sorry.” 

Together they made it to a third generator, kneeling down to work on it. Jake didn't falter when he heard Feng scream. He and Dwight worked quietly until the lights above the generator flickered on. Feng screamed in agony as the Entity took her, too. Jake guided Dwight along, until the leader pulled his hand away. Jake looked back with concern, eyes widening when he saw the old key in Dwight’s hands. 

“I have no idea where the hatch is, but.. Once we find it, we’re okay.” 

Jake nodded, making sure to keep his eyes alert for the hatch. He felt Dwight tense when their hearts started beating faster. A gentle squeeze of Dwight’s hand eased the other, Dwight taking the lead when he spotted the trapdoor. Jake let his hand fall to his side, taking the opportunity to look around. He saw the Hag’s glowing eyes focused on Dwight. 

In an instant, Jake leaped into action to push Dwight out of the way as the Hag leapt at him. Jake hit the ground with a groan, a strangled cry coming from him as he felt teeth sink into his neck. He weakly clawed at her face, hearing Dwight gasp in horror. 

“JAKE!”

As the Hag’s claws drew back to impale his stomach, Dwight slammed a sharp end of the key into her shoulder and tear her off when she growled in pain, releasing her hold on Jake. 

“GET OFF OF HIM!” 

Jake lay still, mouth agape. He was used to pain, and used to keeping quiet about it, but it was a different story altogether when even the attempt of making any noise was impossible. He didn’t even know it was _possible_ to interrupt one of the Killers when they took a kill into their own hands. He heard the hatch open, then felt Dwight lift him into it. He could manage the pain, even if it was excruciating, for Dwight’s sake. 

 

Dwight was an absolute mess. He didn’t even know what possessed him in the final moments of that trial. He only knew he’d been pushed out of the way, and turned to see the Hag tearing Jake’s throat apart. It was terrifying, especially with the knowledge that _he was supposed to be suffering that, not Jake._ Jake saved him so many times, he couldn’t let the saboteur die. He only debated now if this was any _better._

He managed to carry Jake back to the fire, where a stunned Claudette did everything she could to stop the bleeding and tend to him. Dwight hadn’t left Jake’s side, watching as he seemed half-conscious. Every glance at the bandages shot guilt through him. _That should’ve been me._

Dwight settled onto the ground, laying on his side as he stared at the side of Jake’s face. He seemed okay now, features relaxed as he rested, but Dwight was still keenly aware of the expression of pure pain he had seen just before escaping the trial. It was so _unnerving,_ to see that sort of look on Jake’s face. He hated not knowing what to do to help more. Dwight owed Jake so many times over, and he still didn’t know how to thank him. 

Instead, he curled up close, resting his left arm on Jake’s chest and his head against Jake’s shoulder, drifting off to sleep. 

 

Jake slowly opened his eyes, a blank, starless sky greeting him. He blinked, slowly looking around. He squinted his eyes, staring up at the sky as he remembered the last trial. _The hatch, Dwight had a key, the Hag.._ His right hand went to his throat, feeling the bandages around it. He then noticed Dwight next to him, sleeping. He almost didn’t want to disturb him, but he had to be sure. 

“Dwight..” 

His voice was hoarse, and talking hurt _so, so much._ Even speaking as softly as he did, Dwight’s head shot up, and he shuffled to sit upright.

“Jake? Oh god, Jake, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I-” 

“Stop.” 

Jake held a hand up, trying to muster the strength to speak. Instead, sat up to squeeze Dwight in a hug. 

“Just.. glad you’re safe.” 

His throat burned every time he spoke, and he couldn’t help the quiet, almost unnoticeable sigh of pain. Dwight hugged Jake tightly, and Jake felt Dwight’s hand running through his hair. 

“Still.. I’m so sorry. I was so afraid, I..” 

Dwight shook his head, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m just glad you’re alive.” 

Jake closed his eyes, feeling himself growing tired again. This time, Dwight settled closer, letting Jake’s head rest on his chest. Jake relaxed, letting his arms wrap around Dwight. 

“Mm.” 

“Something wrong, Jake?” 

“..Love you.” 

Dwight’s voice became even softer, and Jake could feel him trying to form a response. 

“...Love you too.” 

Jake smiled, settling off to sleep beside Dwight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ParkField, because I realized I hadn't done any and I actually like this ship! It's cute :D


	29. Only Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to Breaking the Facade, in which David and Ace make up.

It had been several days since Ace and David spoke after their fight in the woods near the campfire. The gambler was fine with that; they were able to avoid each other and not cause any more problems. David wasn't keen on approaching the subject, and Ace was more than happy to leave it that way. He had since adopted his normal, confident smirk, as if nothing had ever been wrong. 

Even in another trial against the Doctor, Ace seemed no worse for wear. He worked on generators with the others, while David kept the Doctor busy. They easily managed to get several done before David was put on his first hook. 

Meg ran off to go save him, leaving Ace and Nea to finish the last few generators. When there was only one left, Ace opted to head into the basement and see what he could find in the chest he knew was always down there. He had become dulled to the faint heartbeat; the Doctor sometimes could be felt from a long distance away. 

He looked through the chest he found there, listening to his heartbeat and realizing it was getting faster. It was unlikely that the Doctor was coming over to check his basement, and Ace kept searching to find a basic, half stocked medkit. He sighed, turning to head to the stairs when now saw he was being watched by unblinking eyes. 

Ace stared cautiously at the Doctor, unable to shake the feeling growing in his stomach. For a few, uneasy moments, the Doctor just stared, almost studying him. He watched the Doctor slowly tilt his head, and he swore the already forced grin on the lunatics face grew. Then the Doctor slowly stepped forward, electricity surging around him. 

Ace screamed at the shock, gritting his teeth when the Doctor walked closer and held Ace against the worn, bloody wall. He had a few moments to catch his breath before another, slightly stronger shock went through him. _Not this again!_ His first thought was to try and kick the Doctor away, but the shocks made his muscles tense too much to respond to what he was trying to do. 

_Give in, and the pain stops._

Something spoke to him. It couldn’t be the Doctor, it didn’t sound like him at all even when the lunatic laughed. Whatever it was, he shook his head. Ace didn’t listen to anything trying to give him commands. The Doctor laughed, electricity crackling so much Ace could hear and feel it in the air. He screamed at the top of his lungs, legs giving out underneath him. The Doctor stepped back to let him sink to the ground, leaning against the wall. 

The Doctor laughed as he put his mace aside, rubbing his hands together with distinct crackling. 

 

David had heard the screaming from the other side of the trial. He had been at the exit gate with Nea and Meg, all three of them darting their attention over when they first heard the screaming. They had quickly gotten the last generator on and had the gate open, waiting for the fourth of their group. David started towards the screams, pausing to look over his shoulder. 

“Someone keep an eye out ‘ere, I’m gonna go get ‘im.” 

Meg jogged to catch up with him. 

“Like hell you’re going alone, big guy. I can run the Doctor around while you get him to the gate.” 

David sighed, shrugging in response. _No time to argue about this shit now._ Moments between him and Ace were awkward and tense, considering their last time actually talking resulted in a branch across David’s face. But, he couldn’t in good conscious leave Ace to suffer with the Doctor again. He cared in his own, blunt way. 

He and Meg reached the stairs to the basement after a full out sprint across the worn ground of the woods. Ace’s screams were getting more and more strained and weak, giving a sense of urgency. Without hesitation, David leapt down the stairs. 

“OI! STEP THE FUCK BACK!” 

The Doctor turned, hands and arms absolutely alight with electrical currents. Ace was slumped against the wall, head leaned back and his body shaking. Even from where David stood, he could see Ace’s chest heaving with every breath and terrible electrical burns around exposed areas of skin, even in the dim light of the basement. David grit his teeth, ready to punch the Doctor in his _stupid fucking jaw._ He picked up his mace, chasing Meg and David up the stairs from the basement. 

 

Everything in Ace’s body _hurt._ He was certain that _so much electricity_ should have killed him, but the Entity didn’t quite understand human limits. Or, it simply didn’t care. _Cares enough about what electricity can do besides killing you._ He was grateful for the small break from the painful shocks, the Doctor’s ‘treatment’. Ace closed his eyes, trying to muster up the strength to get up. He felt so weak and vulnerable, and it was a _terrible_ feeling. 

He couldn't help a soft gasp as he felt someone's hands on either side of his face and level his head. _When had someone come back?_ And _God,_ he sounded so pathetic. 

“Easy, not gonna hurtcha. I'm gettin’ you outta this shithole.” 

_Why would David of all people come back for me?_ He briefly shook his head. _Now's not the time._

“I can't.. can't move much.” 

Even speaking was a strain. David's hands fell from his face, and his head hung towards his lap. 

“Alright, sit still and don't squirm, then.” 

Before he could ask what David meant, Ace felt himself be lifted into David's arms, carried bridal style. He lay limp as David raced up the stairs and bolted towards the gate. Ace would worry about appearances later, when he wasn't keenly aware of how much he was shaking and his muscles still twitched, albeit slightly. 

Nea was waiting at the gate, eyes focused elsewhere.

“Go ahead and go. I'll make sure Thomas gets out in one piece.” 

Ace felt David pause, then continue moving on after a few seconds. The cool fog closed in, and Ace willed himself to moving. David's grip only tightened. 

“The fuck did I say? Don't squirm.” 

“David, you can put me down now. I can walk.” 

“Bullshit. You're not fuckin’ walking while you're shakin’ like a damn tree in a hurricane.” 

“David-”

“Look ‘ere, Ace. We ‘aven’t been playin’ nice with each other lately. But there's a better fuckin’ chance of hell freezing over before I willingly let anybody here suffer when I can do somethin’. Being an arsehole is just part of my personality.” 

Ace sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself relax. _No convincing him now._ David set him down carefully by the fire, taking extra time to be as gentle as he could. He grabbed a medkit, taking out bandages to wrap around the burn marks on Ace's chest, neck, and arms. He hated feeling helpless, but everything hurt far too much for him to _care._

“Scream if I'm hurting ya.” 

Ace nodded once, laying limp as David bandaged him up. He was almost surprised at how careful the rough and tumble scrapper could be. 

“Oi, stay with me ‘ere.” 

Ace groaned softly. Everything ached and he just wanted to rest. He felt David wrap his arms around him and pull him close. 

“Sorry, ‘bout nearly beating the shit outta ya. It just worries me and the rest of us when you act outta sorts.” 

Ace stayed quiet as he thought about David's words. It was almost funny, beating someone up because you care about them. 

“I'm sorry, too. Wasn't thinking straight.” 

Moving his arms to try and return the hug shot pain through them, making him stiffen. 

“Gh- _shit._ ” 

Ace wasn't sure why _that_ was the moment panic set in. David wasn't going to hurt him, but his mind still screamed that Ace was going to be hurt more. _Just wait._ David set him down, his left hand pressing against the right side of Ace’s neck to check his pulse. It was the feeling of pure _helplessness_ that bothered Ace; being at someone else’s mercy and there was little he could do. David pulled his hand back at the soft whine Ace made. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. Promise.” 

Ace shook his head, sitting up despite his muscles screaming at him. 

“‘M fine. Just need time to rest.” 

He looked around at the campfire, surprised that no one else was there. _Was he still hallucinating?_

“Just me ‘nd you here.” 

Ace sighed in relief. It was a small relief, knowing that only a few people saw him breaking down instead of all the others he shared the campfire with. He still didn’t like it much in the first place, but it was the best he was going to get. David sat next to him, arms crossed. 

“Y’know, no one’s gonna think less of ya for ‘aving a bad day. Shit ‘appens to all of us.” 

Ace took a deep breath. It was _true_ , he wasn’t a perfect individual and got unlucky, but that was something he didn’t like admitting even to himself. He blinked in surprise when David moved behind him, arms around his waist. 

“Get some rest anyway, yeah? No one’s gonna touch ya.” 

There was plenty more he wanted to say, that he didn’t need to be protected, but it was a comfort he didn’t want to pass up. Ace leaned his head against David’s shoulder, letting himself relax as David held him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything's fine and they're all happy together <3 sometimes I just know what I wanna write for an idea, and this was one of those times. Hope you enjoy!


	30. Fight of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight and David get into the fight of their lives.

David enjoyed a good reason to fight someone anytime he got the chance. Even though it didn’t result in much besides an angry Killer, bunching them in the jaw, neck, or even a kick to the back of the leg was satisfying. It was more satisfying to do so for the sake of the few people he really cared about. With Dwight, it became almost a matter of his _pride_ too. He had made it clear he would protect the nervous leader, and David King did not break his word. 

He heard rumors of something between the Killer known as the Trapper and Dwight. Dwight never seemed keen on mentioning it, and every question about it made the leader stammer and try to change the subject. Eventually David let it go, more and more eager to at least try and pummel the behemoth of a man. 

By now, David was used to seeing Killers in places that didn’t make much sense. Gas Heaven was always an interesting place, with a seemingly intact shop that sometimes could be raided for actual food or drinks. He noticed the metal glint on the floor, and the closed jaws of a metal trap. Hopefully, this would mean a good chance to make the fucker’s life _hell._

He asked Jake to teach him how to sabotage for the sole purpose of destroying every single bear trap he found. But this trial, he couldn’t help but notice that the Trapper wasn’t even keen on watching them. Destroying them was far too easy. _Somethin’s going on._ He’d let the other two destroy the rest of the traps and work on generators while he hunted down the Killer. 

His heart started beating faster when he neared the Killer shack. His fists clenched tighter, holding the sharp sliver in his pocket. _Just in case,_ Laurie told him. He almost laughed then, amused that she didn’t seem to think he’d take the opportunity to just stab the Killer because he felt like it. He slowed down to a walk when he felt his heart pounding, peeking in the doorway of the shack. 

The Trapper towered over Dwight, standing so still David could have mistaken him for part of the scenery if not for the bloody cleaver in his hands. Dwight’s attention darted over to David, gasping quietly. In an instant, the Trapper’s attention spun around, catching David in the doorway. 

The Trapper turned to walk towards him, and even on the mask David could feel the intensity of the glare. _Bring it on then, mate!_ He knew a fair fight wouldn’t be in his favor, but there were no rules, no regulations, no referees to tell him he couldn’t play dirty. He held the sharpened sliver in his pocket, waiting patiently with a growing grin. 

“David, just run!” 

Dwight stood petrified, watching the behemoth walk towards the scrapper with murderous intent. On any other occasion, David would’ve listened to the Leader, but not this time when the Trapper was _clearly_ terrorizing him. Before the cleaver came down on his shoulder, David pulled out the sliver and stepped close to jab it into the shoulder of the Trapper. The growl of pain was satisfying for David to hear, especially when he tore the sliver out and ducked past him, stabbing at his back. It would only a few good swings for the Trapper to take him down; he had to be _fast._

The Trapper spun around, bleeding a black, sticky ooze rather than blood. He swung his cleaver behind him, leaving a gash at David’s stomach. He cried out in pain, running to Dwight to grab his arm. 

“We’re leavin’, come on!”

“David, just go! I’ll be fine!” 

“Like ‘ell I’m leavin’ you!” 

David more or less _dragged_ Dwight out of the shack, away from the now very angry Trapper. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed the Trapper close behind, attention narrowed on David. David grimaced, leading Dwight to the side and turning around. 

“Let’s ‘ave at it, then!” 

Dwight slowed down, watching in terror. He had made a tentative agreement with the Trapper that if Dwight stayed, the others wouldn’t be hurt. That was fine, three people living in exchange for one? That was one of the better cases for a trial. He couldn’t help but watch in fear as David now fought with the Trapper for his sake. 

There wasn’t any real point to fighting the Killer; they couldn’t be stopped for good. It was a stalling tactic at best, to let the others get generators done. There were already three done, and a fourth just powering on. He should be _running,_ not letting David’s trade go in vain, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Not when David was fighting for his life for Dwight’s sake. 

The cleaver came down on David’s shoulder, making him cry out in pain. Despite the pain, he stayed standing. He jabbed the sliver into the Trapper’s chest, stumbling backwards as the Trapper groaned in pain. Dwight knew he had to do _something. Come on Dwight, think!_ It was a terrible idea, but the burning barrel wasn’t too far… 

He bit his lip to prevent himself from screaming, reaching into the fire and grabbing a burning coal, running up to the Trapper and burning it against his arm. The Trapper recoiled, and it was enough to buy some time for Dwight to grab David’s arm and run. His hand and arm _hurt,_ but he could worry about that later. The last generator was powered, and both of them could see the gate not too far away with Feng already opening the door. 

The gate creaked open as their heartbeats started pounding, Feng giving a dirty glare for leading the Trapper over to her. They ran for the fog, bleeding and in pain, only stopping their full on sprint when they reached the familiar light of the campfire. They collapsed beside each other, catching their breaths. Dwight cradled his arm while David pressed on the cut on his stomach. 

“Th’everliving fuck… was that?” 

David muttered between heavy breaths. Dwight slowly looked over his arm, skin marred by the flames. He knew it would heal eventually, but it still looked _terrible._

“Hey.. you alright?”

David’s concerned tone made Dwight look up, nodding after a moment of shock. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” 

David knew it was a lie. But, the expression on Dwight’s face made him sigh. 

“Alright, just know I never mind chattin’ about anythin’ with ya.” 

Dwight nodded, leaning his head on David’s shoulder. 

“I’m just glad we’re alive.” 

David wrapped his arm around Dwight, leaning back. 

“Yeah, let’s not pull some shit like that again. Not really wantin’ to ‘ave another fight like that one.” 

Dwight simply nodded, staring into the fire as David rubbed Dwight’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend of mine (love you dmod!) mentioned something like this and I ran with it. Also, I've been thinking more and more about a sorta Escaped AU story, and I wanted to post [this poll](https://strawpoll.com/9dx87c4d) to see what you guys think I should focus on: Either that or these short requests!


	31. Revenge is Best Served On Other People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddy gets his revenge on Quentin, David is determined to protect him.

Idle time between trials was always a tentative moment of calm to relax. David took the opportunity to rest and recover from whatever injuries he tended to sustain throughout a trial. Claudette had started to let Quentin take care of that whenever she was out on a trial, or otherwise couldn’t help out. David didn’t mind at all; the insomniac was more and more skilled by the day at treating injuries. He was alright with being the practice dummy, in a sense. 

It had been several days since their last run-in with Freddy; where Quentin had gone to great lengths to keep him and Claudette safe to escape. He greatly underestimated Quentin, and he promised he wouldn’t make that mistake again. But, he couldn’t entirely forget about protecting him; it was in David King’s nature to protect what he cared about. 

Quentin was altruistic to a fault sometimes, and it took everything in David not to always drag him out of danger, even if he was kicking and screaming about it. He wanted to keep Quentin safe, but the insomniac never faltered in caring for others, driving himself to the point of exhaustion to do so. David admired it, but it made him worry _so damn much._

Especially when he went into trials and David wasn’t chosen to go along. He had quietly watched Quentin, Jake, Nea, and Bill head into a trial. He wanted to be present in almost every trial, in order to keep the others safe. He was used to taking a beating, and the friends he had here deserved the best protection he could give them. 

Trials sometimes lasted several minutes, and other times they lasted upwards of an hour. It all depended, really, there were so many different things that could happen. Nearly half an hour passed before Bill, Jake, and Nea stumbled out of the woods. _Three, not four._ David stood up nearly instantly, all three of them badly injured and barely standing. Nea spoke up first. 

“Quentin distracted him, he should be back soon.” 

David couldn’t help the annoyed sigh. _Always saving others at risk to himself._ But he did the exact same thing, and he knew it too well. He helped move the others to spots around the campfire, letting them treat their injuries. And then he waited, eyes always on the treeline. 

It was after several hours that David started to get pissed. He turned his gaze to the nearest of the three, Jake Park. 

“Who was the Killer that trial?” 

“..Freddy.” 

Jake didn’t even turn his head, instead staring at the fire. David wanted to yell at him, beat the shit out of everyone there who _left him_ to the killer that has been trying to kill him even _before_ the Entity. But he knew it wouldn’t do much good. He had to _wait,_ as painful as that was. 

It was several more agonizing hours before David felt the call to a trial. He stood and started walking, looking over his shoulder to see Laurie and Bill following him. 

“Who’s the fourth? Get your arse movin’.” 

He stopped, watching as no one else moved. He shrugged, heading into the forest. The fog closed in around him, and he stood still knowing full well he’d find himself at the realm for the trial soon enough. He closed his eyes, opening them and finding himself in Badham Preschool. He hated the place, after being told what had happened at it’s real counterpart. The thought alone made David sick, and angry enough to want to pummel Freddy to a fine powder. 

He ran into Bill almost instantly, and David picked up on the _slightest_ looks of regret. Before David could ask, Bill spoke. 

“This is where we were last time.” 

It only took a few seconds for David to register what Bill meant. _Trial be damned, he’s more important._ He knew Laurie and Bill would work on generators, they were extremely skilled at surviving despite all odds. Truth be told, he had no idea where to even start looking. He didn’t particularly ask Quentin much about his time before the Entity, and he was starting to wish he had at least known a little bit more than he did now. 

He checked inside buildings first, the house closest to him was a good start. He had to start narrowing down his options. When it proved empty of human life, David moved on to the school itself. The hallways were almost cute, if there wasn’t splatters of blood and signs of decay. He jumped into the gaping hole in the floor, down into the underground patchwork of hissing pipes. 

The bloody floors were usually unsettling, and David was all too capable of piecing a terrible fate together. He walked around the hissing pipes, stopping when he heard the quietest of whines. He could have missed it, if not for the brief pause of the steam. He ran through the winding tunnels, looking around in a desperate rush. He noticed the blood on the ground, fresh and still wet. His heart sank to his stomach as he followed the trail, to the corner with the old mattress and wicked shrine boarded up. 

To say Quentin was in bad shape was such an _understatement._ He was barely asleep, his face contorted in pain as he lay on his side in an ever-growing pool of blood that was no doubt his own. Deep scratch marks were on his chest, arms, and face. Several deep lacerations were visible through the fabric of his pants. His left arm held him up while his right was across his stomach, across a brutal slash of four claws. 

“Quentin! Hey, Quentin, wake up!” 

David knelt beside him and shook Quentin’s shoulder gently, relieved when the insomniac opened his eyes and shifted, looking up at David. 

“David..? Wh-what are you doing here..?” 

“Savin’ you, what does it look like?” 

Quentin shook his head. 

“No, you need to-”

“Kid, I’m giving you as much credit as I can. But you can’t even fuckin’ stand. I’m not leavin’ you ‘ere.” 

All too late, David heard the childish singing. 

“David, please-” 

Abruptly, David got to his feet and cracked his knuckles. He could feel himself getting drowsy, but he was more than ready. He closed his eyes for a moment too long, and he could clearly see Freddy in front of him, brandishing claws with a level of ease, as if this was a casual conversation. 

“How heroic, coming to save the day? Sorry, but I wasn’t quite done making him suffer.” 

“David, just go!” 

David grit his teeth. _Still so altruistic, worried about others over himself._ He would just have to get forgiveness later, instead of permission now to defend him. 

“You should have heard him, screaming in agony. It’s really quite _satisfying,_ especially after what he did to me.” 

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth.” 

“Oh? Am I making you angry?”

“Shut the fuck up already!” 

David swung for Freddy’s face, scowling as Freddy stepped back. The wide grin on Freddy’s face was _so irritating._ He swung again, feeling claws rake down the side of his face. He was slammed against the wall, claws digging into his cheek as Freddy held his head against bricks. 

“Did he mention how much it would hurt him, knowing someone got hurt, or _worse,_ trying to save him?” 

David winced as claws dug into his skin, attention briefly darting over to Quentin. _That’s why he was trying to get me to leave._ His attention was moved back on Freddy as his head was forcefully moved. 

“No? Well, isn’t that just _wonderful._ ” 

David slammed his fist into Freddy’s gut with as much force as he could muster, making Freddy stagger backwards. 

“You wanna beat the shit outta me? You’ll ‘ave t’fuckin’ work for it.” 

He moved himself between Freddy and Quentin, narrowed eyes focused on Freddy stepping closer, slowly and calmly. David reached to grab Freddy’s right hand with his left, trying to deliver an uppercut with his right. He felt his punch connect, but Freddy didn’t even seem to flinch as he wrestled his arm free and slashed across David’s stomach. 

He groaned, willing himself to keep himself somewhat composed and think carefully. He was at a severe disadvantage. His better judgement told him to leave, but he was not about to leave Quentin in his state. He stood in place, his glare intense enough to burn through metal. Freddy laughed, looking over his bloody claws. 

“Now that’s a look I know all too well. The burning hatred, the desire to see me gone.. Shame I’m not so easy to kill, isn’t it dear Quentin? And I’m going to make you _truly suffer_ for what you did. I don’t like being _disgraced._ ” 

David could hear the pained sigh Quentin let out. It made him _so enraged_. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white and his arms shook. He stepped forward to swing again, instead feeling claws impale his chest. He was slammed against the pipes, the back of his head banging against the metal. He was thrown to the ground, and he could feel a foot on his back. 

“How does it feel, Quentin? Knowing that you’re responsible for all this?” 

_Damn this fuckwit!_ He was pinned in front of Quentin, trying anything he could to get to his feet again. Quentin focused up at Freddy, showing an impressive amount of resolve. 

“Just, leave him alone. You wanted to kill me, so do it.” 

The laughter from Freddy was starting to really get on David’s nerves. 

“Isn’t this _so much better?_ You get to watch someone close to you be eviscerated, all because you try to be a hero. Some false sense of justice you desperately cling to. That’s worse than simply dying, isn’t it? Watching someone die _because of you._ ”

David grimaced. He was slowly bleeding out, and he hated not being able to _just pummel this fucker into the ground._ He felt claws dig into his shoulder, the pressure on his back lifting as Freddy lifted him to his feet. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Ooh, so mouthy. I think we’ll have to do something about that _rude tone._ ” 

David felt the tips of the metal poke at his throat. He grit his teeth, trying to think of _some way_ to get out of this. He heard Freddy groan in pain, and he took the opportunity to slam the demon into the nearest wall. He picked Quentin up and ran, Laurie gesturing him to follow her. Quentin wrapped his arms around David’s neck, David’s hands around his back as he held him close like a child. 

David was still in pain, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. She paused for just a moment, clapping loudly in their faces to wake them up. David blinked, adjusting his eyes to the world around him. Laurie turned to keep running, and David took the hint and followed her. They couldn’t hear the singing, but they couldn’t stop running. Bill was at the already open gate. 

Bill stood in place, watching with a trained alertness as David, Quentin, and Laurie ran past him. When they were clear into the fog, Bill followed behind to head back to the campfire. David set Quentin down gently, nearly collapsing himself as he sat down beside him. 

“Oi, Quentin, you okay?” 

Quentin looked over, eyes half-open. 

“Yeah, are you..? ..God, I’m...” 

He trailed off as he saw the cuts on David’s face and stomach. David gave a small smile, patting Quentin’s shoulder. 

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong.” 

Laurie quietly walked over with a medkit in hand, sitting in front of Quentin and treating his wounds first, after the subtle wave of David’s hand. 

“This will probably sting a lot, sorry Quentin.” 

Quentin shook his head in response. David reached over to wrap his arm around Quentin’s shoulders. 

“Thanks for th’save, Laurie.” 

She nodded, smiling to David. 

“No problem at all. I mean, we’ve all gotta look out for each other. We hadn’t seen anybody the entire trial, so, we got worried. I didn’t hit you by accident, did I? I took a wild stab in the dark.” 

David shook his head. 

“Nah, don’tcha worry about it. Just glad we’re all fine.” 

He watched Laurie carefully bandage Quentin, going through most of the medkit’s supplies. She frowned as she dug through it, but David waved his hand again. 

“Just do whatcha can, I’ll be alright.” 

She nodded, cleaning up the scratches as best as she could. 

“And really, appreciate you ‘elping out back there.” 

She smiled, sitting back on her legs. 

“It’s no problem. Besides, I know how terrifying it can be to face a Killer like that.” 

_Right, Laurie had a Killer obsessed with her, too._ He made a mental note to talk with her more when he wasn’t in pain. Laurie stood, leaving the medkit on the ground. 

“I’m going to let you two rest. Just say if you need anything.” 

David nodded, turning his attention to Quentin. The insomniac already had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and David didn’t have the heart to move him. Instead, he closed his eyes to at least doze off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to Looks Are Deceiving! It was too good to pass up. (Also, a kind note, I appreciate every single comment you guys give me, but I am an asexual who is sorta eh about nsfw smutty topics. I figured I'd state it, cause I want to respond to every single kind word but sometimes I just don't know what to really say and it makes me sit there awkward staring at the screen.)


	32. Grow and Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudette teaches the Huntress a little bit about plant-life.

If there was one thing Claudette was thankful for, it was the variety of flora she was able to see and study in it’s almost natural habitat. She took notes whenever she could, usually keeping track in her head. She had plenty of time to study and memorize what she found, and what she could do with it. The forests were her favorites, there tended to be hidden flora in the tall grass and she loved finding it, even if she could only ever take several offshoots back to the fire. 

She had a small garden just beyond the reaches of the fire. Any breaks she had, either from trials or treating the others, was spent there. She could still see the glow between the trees, but it was far enough away to have her own solitude. The garden gave her some peace of mind, and she was glad to be able to keep it. 

After a particularly exhausting trial, she trudged to the solitary glen she spent her free time at. She had every single plant memorized, and instantly noticed the small hole where one of her favorites used to be planted. The small burning heart flower was carefully dug out and taken, and she quickly noticed the footprints leading deeper into the woods. 

_Someone has a cruel idea of a joke._ She sighed, following the trail into the woods. She only paused when she realized the forest seemed to close in around her, and the fog thickened so much she could barely see in front of her. It was against better judgement to wander so far into the woods alone, but the thought of someone messing with her hours of hard work bothered her. She wanted to know _why._

The fog started to clear, and she could see the flickering of a fire. She only paused when she realized it wasn’t the light of the campfire, but of a much bigger open fire, with a dead animal above it. She recognized the cabin; the one she spotted often in the Red Forest. She crept closer, looking around the cabin cautiously. 

Inside the cabin, she spotted the flowers next to a fireplace. _They don’t need that much light!_ She took the flowers off the shelf, holding the pot close to her chest as she walked out. She was walking out of the cabin when she spotted the Huntress blocking the doorway, looking down at her with a tilt of her head. Claudette blinked, sighing. 

“Did you really come and take a flower from my garden? Burning hearts do better in the shade, you know.” 

The Huntress just stared at her, making Claudette uneasy. _What is she expecting?_ She held the pot closer. 

“If you’re lonely and want some flower company, I suggest Hydrangeas. You can just let them grow and not worry about them too much.” 

She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to get those kind of flowers at all, but what else was the Huntress expecting? Quietly, the Huntress took hold of Claudette’s arm and guided her around the cabin. At first, Claudette was sure she had somehow made the masked hunter upset, but the grip on her arm was gentle. Instead, Claudette was lead to the back of the cabin, a makeshift garden along the back wall. It was fenced off by broken pieces of wood, and the plants looked absolutely miserable and withered. The Huntress, despite the mask, seemed genuinely concerned over the well-being of the garden. 

“Did you want to learn how to take care of your own garden?” 

The Huntress nodded once, and Claudette couldn’t help but smile. 

“Well, let’s start with the basics. They’re too crowded together, and can’t really grow like they need to. Most plants need plenty of space to grow and really blossom into their potential.” 

The Huntress, Anna, nodded, kneeling down to carefully take out the plants from their spots, spacing them out more while Claudette watched. Despite her obvious strength, Anna was gentle with the delicate roots. Claudette watched carefully, not wanting to step in unless she had to. 

“About six inches should be enough space to make sure they don’t choke each other.” 

Anna nodded, properly spacing out the plants but giving much more space than Claudette recommended. _Better safe than sorry._ Anna stood when she was done, looking over to Claudette. Claudette smiled, looking over the small garden.   
“Much better. Just be sure to water them, give them some light, and fertilize the soil, and they should grow without any problems.”

Anna smiled under the mask, absolutely delighted at the news. Claudette was always skilled at reading people’s emotions, and it didn’t stop at survivors. Outside the trials like this, Killers were more often than not easy to read. Anna grabbed her arm again, leading her to the bonfire with the deer still roasting over it. 

“Stay, please?” 

Claudette looked over to the treeline, still holding the burning heart pot. She didn’t want to leave just yet, but the others would be concerned about her. She set the pot aside, sitting by the bonfire. 

“Okay, but just for a little bit.” 

Anna smiled widely, moving to sit beside Claudette and show her where she had struck to take the deer down, and how best to skin and cook it. It was a morbid knowledge to know, but Claudette took it in. A smaller hatcher was used to cut the deer into several pieces, small enough to eat. Claudette took the cut of meat she was given, holding it in her hands. It was almost unsettling, but she shrugged to herself and took a bite out of it. It was Anna’s way of saying thanks, and Claudette liked the company. Anna’s soft humming told Claudette that she liked hers, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from my tumblr!


	33. Troublemakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg and Nea usually get into trouble, but Claudette finds out why.

Claudette typically found herself as the dedicated doctor of the group of survivors, tending to their injuries when they returned to the campfire or they found her in trials. She didn’t mind it, it meant keeping her friends alive and well. However, some survivors liked getting into trouble, and she always found herself worrying. 

Meg and Nea on their own were okay, but combined Claudette found they liked to test their limits. They got on the Entity’s nerves for the sake of it, usually resulting in close calls that made Claudette’s heart skip a beat. No matter how many times she stressed caution, they went back to destroying the Entity’s things with a cheeky grin. 

She was mid-organizing her supplies when she heard the trees rustle. She stood, walking towards it with several supplies in hand, fully prepared for the coming conversation. She waited and counted in her head, opening her mouth when she reached the count of five and she heard two familiar sets of footsteps. 

“What did you guys do this time?” 

Nea and Meg gave a guilty smile, both looking to each other. Claudette sighed, Meg shaking her hands. 

“Nothing bad this time, honestly!” 

Nea gestured for Claudette to follow. 

“We just gotta show you, come on!” 

Meg and Nea turned to run back into the woods, Claudette following close behind. She maneuvered through the treeline, Meg and Nea leading through it confidently as if they had traveled this way many times. Meg ran ahead, into a small clearing that was lit by several makeshift torches. Nea climbed through, making a ‘ta-da’ motion and gesturing to the clearing. 

Claudette looked around, spotting a hammock and various plants decorating around the trees the hammock was tied between. She looked around in confusion, noticing the makeshift shelves beside the hammock. Meg grinned, hands on her hips.   
“We figured you’d want some place to relax by yourself, so we put this together for you! It’s even got space to grow things or to store your plants and stuff.” 

Nea leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed. 

“We decided it would be a surprise. It’s why we kept getting in big trouble taking things, the Entity wasn’t too happy about it. But, it was worth it.” 

Claudette stood in shock, looking around the clearing. She had never considered claiming an area for herself; she almost always spent her time at the fire. She turned her attention to Meg, who held her fist against her chest. 

“I think we did pretty great! Besides, you’re amazing and we wanted to do something nice for you.” 

Claudette still stood in shock, feeling tears form in her eyes. She reached to wipe them away, both Meg and Nea at her sides. 

“Is something wrong, Claudette? You can say if you don’t like it, we won’t be hurt!” 

Claudette shook her head, wrapping her arms around both of them. 

“No, no I love it! Really, I just, didn’t expect it is all. Thank you two so much.” 

Nea gave Claudette a pat on the back, slowly growing a guilty grin again. 

“Also, we uh, got a little banged up in the last trial.” 

Claudette couldn’t help but laugh, pulling her arms back and sitting in front of the hammock on the ground. 

“Come sit down then, I’ll stitch you two back up.” 

“You two are such troublemakers, you’re lucky I love you both.” 

The two sat down with their legs crossed, and Claudette saw the cuts on their arms and sides. She shook her head with a grin as Meg and Nea sat still and watched Claudette treat them, happy to spend time with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Meg/Nea/Claudette request! This was cute to write, it's short and sweet!


	34. Bonds for a Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake has something to show to Laurie.

Laurie had grown used to the red-eyed crows that inhabited the trials and forests around the campfire. They were mostly uninvolved, simply watching during trials and flying off if someone got too close, either survivor or Killer. Jake had taught her how to keep the crows from flying off startled, and she was grateful for for anything that helped her avoid the Killers. She was more than happy to teach Jake her own tricks. 

She had come back from a trial after surviving with Quentin, ready to lay down and try to get whatever sleep she could. The trials had become part of life, and as much as she was used to it, she hated every aspect of it. There were, of course, good things that came with being in this realm. She started talking to the saboteur more and more, enjoying his silent company. He didn’t talk unless it was necessary, and she enjoyed the peace. 

She learned he tended to show his emotions through subtle actions rather than telling people, even if he was upset, lonely, or in pain. Over time, Laurie had learned how to read his emotions, the subtle shifts in how he carried himself or in his face when he encountered something. She always noticed the little jump whenever she had pricked herself while stitching herself up, followed by Jake offering to help her. 

“Hey, Laurie. Follow me.” 

She turned to face Jake, the barest of smiles on his face. They were technically dating. Technically. Neither one had officially said it, more so accepted it when the others did. She followed quietly, making sure to step where he did to avoid tangles of undergrowth. She followed Jake to his normal hideaway, a dimly lit copse of flora, consisting of a simple padding for a makeshift bed. 

What caught her attention was the makeshift nest in a low hanging branch, two small crows resting inside. She couldn’t help creeping close, watching them safely sleep in the nest. 

“I wanted to show you before they woke up. They’re still young and can’t fly yet.” 

They were nestled in the warmth, and Laurie noticed the edges of the nest were surrounded by fabric. 

“They’re so cute.. Do you have names for them?” 

Jake shook his head. 

“I wanted to wait for you to help me decide.” 

She delicately grabbed one from the nest, holding the small bird to her chest. It stirred quietly, stretching its wings and nestling against her. Jake held the other bird, nodding to Laurie’s. 

“That one’s a boy. The one I’ve got is a girl.” 

She nodded, holding the sleepy crow up to her face. Unlike the others, its eyes were a normal black instead of shining red. It’s feathers were scruffy, and it seemed wholeheartedly inexpressive about being held. 

“They’ll remember their names for their entire lives, so pick carefully.” 

Jake stood quietly, watching Laurie cradle the bird. She tilted her head as she watched the crow in her hands curl up to sleep. 

“Jake, then.” 

Jake looked confused, before realizing what Laurie meant. 

“That’s.. Going to get confusing.” 

She settled Crow-Jake back into the nest, grinning. 

“But look at him! He’s just like you.” 

He sighed quietly, returning the other to the nest. 

“This will be Laurie, then.” 

Crow-Laurie squawked, it’s voice high pitch and almost like it was trying to sing. She crossed her arms, pretending to pout. 

“That’s not fair! You just picked it to counter me.” 

Jake’s smile grew slightly, and she knew full well he wasn’t falling for it. 

“It’s still a cute name.” 

Laurie’s pout turned into a smile, and she turned her attention away. 

“Still unfair.” 

Jake laughed, walking close to wrap Laurie in a hug. She remembered when he had first started teaching her about the animals around the Entity’s realm, and how intelligent the birds really were. Crows didn’t forget people, or how those people acted towards them. Jake tended to go with subtle implications, and Laurie was always keen enough to catch onto them. 

She felt the gentle kiss on her forehead, then Jake stepped back and gestured her to follow. 

“Let’s find something to feed the little things.” 

She nodded, jogging after him with a grin, knowing crows made bonds for a lifetime, and they wouldn’t be so different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cute Laurie/Jake request I really liked doing. I'm gonna work on writing a bunch of requests and go through the list I have saved!


	35. Stitch Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nurse/Huntress bonding!

Anna hated when the survivors didn’t play fair. They brought in tools to defy their oncoming death, from medkits, to toolboxes, or even keys on rare occasions. She hated it when the survivors brought something to stab her with and get free, either to buy time for their teammates or to make a quick escape. She trudged back from her last trial, shoulder still hurting from where a particular blonde survivor had stabbed her. 

She dropped the enormous axe by the door of her cabin, letting herself take a deep breath in and out before turning her attention to the fire. She sat in front of the fire, letting the warmth of it wash over her and relax the tense muscles. The crackling of the flames was soothing, but it didn’t distract her from hearing the rustling of grass outside her home. 

She looked over to the door, watching the floating form of the Nurse enter. Anna sighed, too tired to give any response. Sally tilted her head, gently lowering herself to the ground. 

“You’re hurt?” 

She nodded, eyes focused on the fire. Sally sat down next to her, delicately placing her hands on Anna’s shoulder to map out where was sorest. She pressed her fingers into Anna’s shoulders, working away the knots and tension with trained expertise. Anna closed her eyes, humming quietly as Sally worked. 

“Better?” 

Anna slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder, soreness ebbing away as Sally massaged her muscles. She then nodded, smiling slightly. 

“Yes, much.” 

Sally smiled, wrapping her arms around Anna’s. She lifted Anna’s hand, Anna tilting her head as Sally put her hand on her own shoulder. 

“I could teach you how to treat yourself. It’s only fair.” 

Anna nodded with a smile, listening as Sally traced her fingers over muscles and pointed out where to apply pressure in order to ease tension. Anna stood still and listened, enjoying the closeness by the warm fire. Anna continued humming, feeling Sally’s movements becoming slower and more relaxed. She felt the other lean against her, resting their head on her shoulder. 

“You have a wonderful voice, Anna.” 

“Will have to teach you the lullaby sometime.” 

Sally nodded, laughing quietly as Anna lifted her into her lap in front of the fire. Anna hummed the age old lullaby, happily dozing off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's def short but sweet and I apologize for it, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless! I couldn't think of another title, haha.


	36. Cuddle Puddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David is a good pillow for the others. (Kingfield gets mentioned a lil)

David knew he was a heavy sleeper. He often got back to the campfire and dozed off, quickly falling asleep and waking up sometime later. In the Entity’s realm, he didn’t need much of it, he preferred to stare at the sky and just relax. The starless skies were monotonous, but almost soothing after the stresses of the trials. 

He noticed how little Quentin slept, despite how outright tired he always was. It made sense, being chased by a Dream Demon didn’t make one want to sleep that much. David appreciated Quentin’s help in trials, keeping a wary eye out so he could rest for that extra burst of speed in danger he was capable of tapping into. David wasn’t blind to the fact that Quentin never asked for anything in return, he simply and genuinely wanted the others safe. 

When Quentin asked to sleep beside him, he simply shrugged and closed his eyes. If his presence alone was reassuring enough to allow Quentin to get some rest, David wouldn’t say no. He didn’t mind much when he woke up and Quentin was holding onto his arm and using his shoulder as a pillow. David simply dozed off again, not wanting to disturb the insomniac's precious rest. 

Slowly but surely, the others had started adopting the same habit. David was quietly overjoyed when Dwight started doing it; he often wanted nothing more than to be close to the leader. Even in the tentative beginnings of a relationship, David wanted to hold him close and make him feel like royalty. He couldn't tell any of the girls to stop, they looked far too peaceful and often curled up into a ball with their head rested on his arm, chest, or stomach. He was only surprised when he caught Feng doing it once, and only once. 

Claudette and Meg were notorious for holding his arms in death grips, and he had no choice but to let them rest. Nea tended to simply be beside him when he woke up, and entirely gone in an instant when he woke up again after dozing off. Laurie only ever rested her head on his shoulder, and she had only done that once. 

Jake was similar to Laurie, only ever resting his head on David's shoulder, but he did so more often than she did. Ace, to David's annoyance, shared the death grip Meg and Claudette had, and he was a deep sleeper too. He could only sigh and go back to sleep, usually shoving the gambler a few times to keep him from being _so damn clingy_. David only ever caught Bill next to him once, when he sat against a tree to sleep and some up to the soldiers head lolling to the side. They were close, but not actually touching, and David figured that was the closest the soldier would ever get. 

It didn't take that long for most of them to start using him as a pillow or heat source, but David didn't mind much. He was a sound sleep anyway, and let it snowball out of control. They were his friends, and if he was able to ease the tension in such a passive way, he wasn't going to put an end to it. 

He had walked back from a trial and dozed off, right arm under his head as he fell fast asleep in minutes. Dreamless sleep was common and much appreciated over nightmare alternatives, either through their own minds or by work of Freddy. It wasn't often they had to deal with The Nightmare itself, but no one enjoyed it. 

When David woke up, he felt the glow and warmth of the fire. He lifted his head, quickly finding that the heat wasn't because of the flames, but because the others had crowded around him, and in Dwight’s case on top of him. He blinked, groggy eyes narrowing as he looked between them all. 

He didn't want to move and disturb the near dogpile of the others on top of him. He simply stared at the sky, taking in deep breaths. He pat Dwight’s back, noticing the small shift and tightening of his grip. It was sweet, and instead David opted to just doze, enjoying the company of the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cute af tumblr request! I'm still taking them, but I've got a lot right now and school is very quickly approaching again.


	37. In Tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Ace work well together, but teamwork can't stop everything.

Some trials were challenges through hardships in working with others; either they didn’t quite get the silent hints at what to do, or were just downright idiotic. It led to very quick trials, and a tense silence at the campfire. Other times, everything went well, seamless cooperation made for brief trials too, but the campfire instead was alight with celebration and excitement. 

It was rare for David to experience both extremes in one trial. He just wasn’t able to work well with Meg or Claudette, misunderstanding what they meant and saving them when they inevitably ran into the Hillbilly and a meathook. He still wasn’t entirely sure what they were trying to do. 

Ace was the one he was able to work with flawlessly, finding the gambler being surprisingly helpful and working on generators, saving another when he couldn’t. He had vowed to himself to make sure he lived, getting up from whatever generator he was working on whenever he heard the gambler cry out in pain. 

There were only so many times someone could be put on a hook before the Entity was unstoppable. Both Meg and Claudette reached their limit by the time Ace was chased down and put on a hook. _I’m not letting ‘im die._ He gracefully jumped down from the open window of the Asylum, making his way over while Meg and Claudette tended to their injuries. He heard his heart pounding as he lifted Ace off the hook, relying on the trick Bill taught him to help his friends survive.   
The Hillbilly’s hammer came down on Ace, who ran the opposite direction on borrowed time. David ran in front of the Hillbilly, waving his arms. 

“CHASE ME, HUNCHBACK FUCK!” 

David bolted, glad that the Hillbilly was after him. It didn’t take long for him to have to run on borrowed time, but Meg had caught the Hillbilly’s sight and he had changed his focus to change her. It wasn’t the best option, but it was _something_. He started patching himself up, trying to recover and find him to keep distracting him while the others worked on generators. Claudette had healed Ace, and he let out a sigh of relief. 

The relief was short-lived as Meg was caught next to a hook. He hated being powerless to help her as the Entity took her. He kept working on the generator, tensing when he next heard Claudette’s scream. The silence that followed was almost deafening, he didn’t hear any heartbeat. He had to keep working, or else they would never get out alive. 

He heard Ace’s cry in pain after another minute of silence. He got up from the generator, trying to see where the gambler was. Ace was running outside the wall of the Asylum when he was hit again, and lifted onto the Hillbilly’s shoulder. He stood in the open wall of the Asylum’s second floor; the hook was far too close for him to effectively block it and give Ace time to wiggle free. He stood still as the Hillbilly looked around the area. _I can’t put both of us at risk_. He clenched his fists as he watched Ace struggle, straining more and more against the Entity. He saw the Hillbilly walk into the building and come up the stairs, and David knew he had to move. 

He got to Ace just in time, pushing him to a run. The Hillbilly was right behind them. David pushed Ace to the side, gaining the Hillbilly’s attention as he ran. _Good_. He would just have to lose his trail, or buy enough time for Ace to finish the generators they had to do. The former proved to be easier, he was able to lose his trail by sprinting over his tracks, and quietly walking off. 

He found Ace on a generator near one of the gates, first hearing his whines of pain. 

“Oi, Ace, get off the gen for a sec.” 

Ace obeyed, stepping back from the generator to let David treat his injuries, but not before a sly grin. 

“My knight in shining armor.” 

“Shut it before I change my mind.” 

Ace laughed once, his grin growing wider as David used makeshift bandages to stop the bleeding. He and Ace continue working on the generator, getting most of the way done before David noticed Ace tensing. 

“On his way over, better be prepared to run.” 

Almost on cue, David’s heart started racing. He saw the Hillbilly lumbered towards them, and he instantly stood to run. 

“I’ll keep ‘im busy, yeah?” 

Ace ran to the opposite side of the generator where David was working, giving a nod. The Hillbilly’s eyes narrowed on David as he ran past, away from the generator and the gate. It didn’t take long for Ace to get the generator up and running, just as he was finally caught. _Only two more to go_. He shouted when he felt the hammer connect with his back, knocking him to the ground. 

He was put on the nearest hook, watching the Hillbilly patrol around the area. His heartbeat slowed after a minute, and it was getting harder and harder to keep the Entity away from him. Ace peeked from around a corner, then went to get him off the hook. 

“Lookin’ at us, time to go.” 

David and Ace ran away from the heartbeat, Ace slowing down after they rounded another wall. 

“We’re good for now.” 

It was Ace’s turn to patch David up, giving him a light pat on the back. 

“Hatch is back at the generator we were workin’ on before we were so rudely interrupted. Just in case things go bad.” 

_Neither of us have a key._ David hated the idea of having to take it himself, but they were both on their last chance. He didn’t like leaving Ace to go off on his own, either, but if they both were caught together, it was a death sentence. He rounded around the Asylum, watching Ace calmly walk off to a generator in the distance. 

David was really starting to hate the silence that continuously fell over the area. His heartbeat was faint, nowhere near fast enough for him to be concerned. The generator in the Asylum was partially worked on, sparks flying from it as it continued chugging. He knelt to repair it, keeping himself attentive to to any sounds. Ace was either very good at hiding, or very good at making the Killer upset. _Or both_. David had to give him more credit; Ace wasn’t as incompetent as he initially seemed, his sly grin reassuring in the strangest way. 

He nearly jumped when he heard Ace’s scream. He immediately got up and ran to the window, jumping down with an ungracious thud. His first instinct was to save him, to take the death for him, but the words earlier echoed in his ears. _Just in case. Did that fucker know he was gonna get caught?_ He grit his teeth, nails digging into his palms as his fists tightened, and he starting running to the hatch. 

He braced himself for another shout, knowing full well he’d hear it soon. He didn’t expect it to be _so loud_ , and he couldn’t help but turn his attention back towards it. He saw the Entity’s limbs, a much more crowded mess of spider-like legs around the hook. A wave of anger, guilt, and dread washed over him. _I should’ve protected him_. The Entity was thoroughly upset, and it didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. After a second standing in horror, David turned to run to the hatch and jump into the darkness below. 

 

Ace more or less stumbled back to the campfire, every part of him feeling sore. _I feel like I got thrown into a mulcher_. He collapsed at the edges of the fire in a small glen he claimed for himself whenever he needed privacy. He lay on the ground, staring at the leaves above him. He moved his cap over his eyes, letting his arms fall loosely at his sides. _Bad days happen, it’s no big deal_. 

He didn’t move when he heard the rustling of tree branches beside him; noises like that were common. It was only when he felt the cap and sunglasses being taken off his face that he opened his eyes. David’s worried expression wasn’t something he expected to see. He managed a small grin. 

“Find the hatch okay? Didn’t explain it too well.” 

David’s sigh sounded annoyed. 

“Fuckin’ shit, Ace, I don’t give a damn about that. You alright?” 

“..Well, I’ll live. Just, hurts like hell. Turns out the Entity doesn’t like being played for a fool.” 

Ace felt David settle next to him, sitting back against the tree. David’s gaze didn’t falter, a concern present in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I don’t either. Sorry I couldn’t save you.” 

Ace shrugged as best as he could laying down.

“Happens. Can’t be lucky all the time. Good news is not all of us died.” 

He heard David sigh, then felt himself lifted off the ground as David held him close. 

“Let’s not do that shit again.” 

Ace laughed, leaning his head against David’s shoulder. 

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request based on a game I had with a friend who plays David and I play Ace. Our teammates were dead pretty quickly and it was us just powering through gens. The Hillbilly had Whispers and eventually caught me while they got away, but not before I ran the Hillbilly around and made him look like a fool. Totally worth it.


	38. Fight The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie, Quentin, and David are tormented by a certain dream demon wanting to exact his revenge.

For the most part, the campfire was a safe haven the survivors returned to after trials to recover, and to prepare themselves for another. Sleep wasn't required like normal, but it was a nice way to rest and kill time. Their dreams were normally dull and mundane if they even dreamt at all, until Freddy arrived and Quentin warned them of the demon. 

David wasn't surprised when he started having nightmares; to unnerve and frighten him would scare the others. Freddy never tried anything himself, and David wasn't all that afraid of someone who was all talk. Even after nearly dying by Freddy’s hands in front of an severely injured Quentin, David didn’t allow himself to be afraid. 

He didn’t even want the others knowing he was constantly suffering from terrible, graphic nightmares. _They don’t need to know._ He was still able to keep them safe in trials, and that was what mattered. He elected to sleep less and less in order to keep his focus, and not see the images of his friends, especially Laurie and Quentin, torn to pieces. 

He stumbled back from a trial, exhausted and pained as he held his side. He’d recover soon enough, but for now he wanted nothing more than to rest. He found a spot at the edges of the fire, laying back to drift off to sleep. 

It didn’t take long for him to find himself in the basement of the Preschool, surrounded by hissing steam that he could barely see through. He heard it faintly at first, the deep, sick laughter David knew belonged to Freddy. David pushed himself through the steam, eager for a chance to get revenge. 

He felt metal smack into the back of his knees, making him collapse forward. He looked up and saw Freddy standing in front of him, casually tossing a metal pipe aside. 

“You’ve been quite the trouble, Mr. King.” 

“Fuck off.” 

David grit his teeth, glaring as he found himself unable to move. 

“Now now, class is just beginning, and we have a very important lesson to get through. I suggest you pay close attention, perhaps take notes.” 

Freddy stepped aside, revealing Quentin with his arms bound over his head. _S’not him, just a nightmare_. He winced as Freddy’s claws raked down Quentin’s chest, the scream sounding all too real. 

“It’s _very_ easy to get to people when you hurt what’s important to them. You really shouldn’t be such a blunt individual, Mr. King.” 

Claws dug into Quentin’s face, blood streaming down as he screamed in agony. David felt his face getting hot as rage built up. 

“Quit fuckin’ with me.” 

Freddy turned to face David, grinning widely. 

“I can assure you, I’m doing no such thing. I’m really not so bad, so long as you stay out of my way. This is for your benefit, so you can do just that. You see, people at their core will become selfish, desperate things to protect themselves. It simply isn’t worthwhile to give your life to them.” 

The claws on his hand impaled Quentin’s stomach, and David struggled against whatever was holding him down at the deafening scream. 

“DAVID, PLEASE!” 

_Don’t do this, please._ He shook his head, trying to wrestle himself free. He grit his teeth, staring Freddy with burning determination. _Just one punch, that’s all I need. Just let me-_

He woke with a jump, heart racing as he looked to Quentin, then to Laurie. _Why the fuck does my leg hurt?_ He still had a small sliver of glass shoved in his leg, Laurie following his gaze and taking it out. 

“Sorry! We didn’t know what else to do.” 

David sat up with a groan, looking between them. 

“Th’fuck are you talking about?” 

“You were having a nightmare, and you wouldn’t wake up.” 

_Of fucking course._ He let out a tired sigh. 

“I’m alright, kid. Nothin’ to worry about.” 

“I know you’ve been having them for awhile, David. All of us have, because Freddy wants us to suffer.” 

_Gotta give him credit, he’s a perceptive kid._

“Both of ya? He's real pissed, ain't he?” 

He sighed as they nodded. _Course he’s bitter._

“Didn’t wanna scare either of ya. I can ‘andle m’self.” 

He stretched out, shaking his head to wake himself up. Even Laurie looked tired, rudely awoken from an otherwise pleasant nap. Quentin’s expression was one of concern, and David tried to reassure the insomniac with a light pat on the shoulder. 

“We can keep watch with each other. Two of us sleep, one of us stays awake, and we switch off every couple hours.” 

Both Quentin and David looked to Laurie at her suggestion. _Hard to argue with that._

“Sounds good t’me. Let’s just find a better alternative to wakin’ someone up then a stab to th’leg. I’d appreciate it.”

Quentin and Laurie couldn’t help the awkward, guilty laugh. David stood up, leaning against the nearest tree. 

“You two get some rest now, I’ll keep an eye out.” 

It didn’t take either of them long to settle in by the fire, David keeping an attentive eye with the hope that Freddy would find another grudge to focus on, or wear himself too thin to the point where he would have to stop. Otherwise, David would make him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from tumblr! I start school back up pretty soon, so these might slow down a bit. Also, how would you all feel if I put some stories here that contained OCs, whether my own or OCs belonging to friends of mine?


	39. Late Night Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Quentin talk about nightmares and what to do going forward.

Quentin was used to not sleeping much. It started first from a curiosity to learn that drove him to always pour through books late into the night. When he and Nancy were plunged into a fight for their lives, it became much more important to stay awake. He could have left her to a terrible fate, but Quentin wasn’t that kind of person. He pushed his own limits, going farther beyond what was capable of his body in order to keep people he cared about safe. Maybe he cared too much, but in the Entity’s realm where death was an everyday part of life, it didn’t matter as much to him. 

He had tried taking a nap, but nightmares at the edges of his vision always taunted him. Sights of the other survivors and of Nancy being torn apart always haunted him. The foggy sky was the sight that greeted him when he woke up, providing no light but the illusion of starlight. He took a deep breath, rubbing his arm over his eyes. 

“Oi, rough night?” 

He sat up in a jolt, attention turning to David who was just walking back from the treeline. 

“Yeah, used to it by now, though.” 

David sat down next to him, arms resting on his knees. 

“Don’t even wanna talk about it? Might help ya out.” 

Quentin shrugged once, gaze drifting over to the fire. 

“They’re all kinda the same. Someone, either one of you all or Nancy getting hurt because of him. And, there’s nothing I can do to help and it hurts, every time. I’ve spent way too much time trying to get rid of him for good to fail now. And I know they’re always just nightmares but.. I am always a little afraid it’s going to come true, that I’m not gonna be able to save someone and they’re going to be gone forever. I just know I have to keep hoping that’ll never happen, that we’re going to be okay through all this.” 

He let out a sigh when he finished talking, shoulders slumping as he stared up at the sky. David quietly listened, only talking when he was sure Quentin was done. 

“Not worried ‘bout yourself at all?” 

Quentin shook his head. 

“No, not really. I’ve been hurt plenty before, that doesn’t scare me. I guess even being sacrificed or killed outright isn’t as bad here. Sure, you wanna avoid dying at any time, but.. I could never live another day if someone else had to die for me and I didn’t even try everything I could to help them.” 

David nodded, reaching over to pat Quentin’s back lightly. 

“Good on ya. All my friends deserve the best I can do for ‘em, and I’d say everyone here is a friend o’mine. Just gotta know when to take care of yourself first. Can’t do shit if you’re wearin’ yourself thin.” 

Quentin looked back down to the ground, letting out a quiet sigh. 

“Listen kid, you aren’t the only one ‘round here that can keep others safe. Two way street as far as takin’ care of each other goes. Eventually, you gotta let the others take care of ya.” 

“I know that, it's just.. it's not me to sit back and let others around me suffer when I can help.” 

David smiled, patting Quentin’s shoulder. 

“You care a lot, and I know I appreciate it. A bit more rear won't kill ya, though. I'll even keep an eye out for ya.” 

Quentin lay back down on the ground, staring at the sky. He felt his chest rise and fall with his breaths, the silence almost relaxing to him. He was keenly aware of David's presence, letting himself relax and close his eyes. He knew it would take time for him to fully relax; Freddy instilled a constant wariness in him. He heard David shift, then felt David's arm lift him up stay around him firmly. Quentin smiled slightly, drifting to sleep in David's protective grip.


	40. Rose Among Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hillbilly runs into Claudette outside of a trial.

Max Thompson was always keenly aware of how the survivors interacted with each other. He was always aware of how David would quite literally drag another survivor out of the way of his chainsaw and take the hit himself. He noticed how Feng would run before he grew too close, and how the others would scramble to help in their own ways. He always noticed the way Claudette was drawn to the survivors he had hurt, and how determined she was to help them. 

Part of him wanted to get to know her, he was so keenly aware that she cared greatly about others. But he was too aware of how he looked; a terrifying visage that was kept locked away for many years. His appearance was terrifying, survivors tended to run the instant they saw him. Of course, being a Killer didn’t help either. 

Outside of trials, Max preferred to stay around the recreation of the Shack, a central place that almost always showed in trials as a landmark. He didn’t like being at his ‘home’, it was anything but to him. He was sitting on the ground adjusting his chainsaw and it’s parts when he heard a rustling. Faintly, but most definitely there and not belonging to one of the Killers he often saw. 

He stood, grabbing his chainsaw and hammer. _Survivors aren’t allowed here. Them’s the rules._ But the Entity made all the rules, and yet there was still the faint rustling. He ran in his typical fashion to the source of the noise, looking around intently. The rustling was coming from further within the woods, and he followed it without hesitation. 

It always seemed two steps ahead of him, Max letting out a groan of annoyance. The cackling cawing of a crow caught his attention, and he desperately wished to grab hold of the trickster bird and chop it to pieces. He was far from the shack now, and he had gotten himself lost chasing the noise. He started walking in a direction, pausing when he heard a quiet gasp.

He hated the crows somewhat _less_ , but this survivor hadn’t been doing anything wrong. There wasn’t any point to killing them outside trials, but they didn’t necessarily know that. He heard the fearful breaths, walking around the tree to investigate. 

Claudette stared at him, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. Yet, she wasn’t running yet. 

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you were doing.” 

He tilted his head at her, taking in her words. 

“Ah wasn’t doin’ much, dumb birds makin’ funna me again.” 

Claudette seemed somewhat surprised that he spoke, but she gave a small, albeit nervous smile in return. 

“Crows are kinda like that, I think. Most of my experience is with plants, so I, uhm, don’t know too much.” 

He could tell he was making her nervous. Yet, she still stuck around instead of bolting like everyone else. 

“Are ya lost?” 

She blinked in confusion, slowly nodding. The last thing he wanted was for another, much crueler Killer like the Shape to come across her. He roughly knew where the campfire the survivors stayed at was; it was a deep seated knowledge to both know where it is, and stay as far from it as possible. He started walking towards the beacon that urged him to stay away. 

“Keep runnin’ that way. Don’t stop for nothin’, and you’ll be just fine.” 

He looked back to Claudette, who relaxed and nodded with a smile. 

“Got it. Thank you, truly.” 

She started walking, stopping and looking over her shoulder. She had pulled out a delicate blossom from her pocket, handing it over to Max. 

“Here, you can have this. I should be going now, but, thank you again.” 

She nodded with a smile when Max took the blossom, then turned to run off. He turned to try and find his way back, holding the blossom in his hand. It seemed so delicate, as if the wrong movement would cause it to fall to pieces, but he could feel it’s toughness in his hands. He didn’t want to hurt her, and knew he would have to for the Entity. Among the thorns of the Entity’s realm, Max knew there would be some roses blooming despite everything. Maybe things would one day be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A p cute request for some Hillbilly/Claudette interactions. Claudette's too good for this world.


	41. Knocked Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock Out is a really nasty perk, and Dwight learns this first hand.

Dwight always pushed himself to know a Killer’s tricks; what they could teach the other monsters to make sacrifices easier for them. He couldn’t effectively lead if he didn’t know what to expect. He had made notes of all the possible perks a Killer could have, just as they could tap into different ones the farther they dug into the Bloodweb. 

Dwight had immediately noticed how similar the Hillbilly and the Cannibal, Leatherface, were. Both had chainsaws and sledgehammers, and seemed at home in the cornfields of Coldwind Farm. He quickly learned the difference in the sounds of their chainsaws, the Hillbilly’s was a higher pitch. 

When he heard the revving of a chainsaw, he knew it was Leatherface’s. The sound was lower in pitch, more rhythmic as he swung instead of sprinted. Dwight calmly started working on a generator, he’d find the others soon enough. He felt another’s aura creep closer, and he turned his head to see David walking towards him. 

With a quiet nod, David started working beside him. They were able to quickly get a generator online with no problems, and Dwight moved on to another one with David walking beside him. Another generator powered on as David and Dwight knelt to work, hearts faintly beating. There was no need to worry just yet, and both of them kept working on the generator. 

They got the generator powered on when their heartbeats started beating faster. Dwight was walking amongst the corn of the Rotten Fields; he knew better than to panic and break into a sprint. When his heartbeat kept racing, he knew he had to run. The red tint was getting closer and closer, and Dwight had to keep running. 

The sledgehammer slammed into his side, making him cry out in pain and dash forward. He ran towards the tree, as much as he hated the sight of the mutilated animals. He got to the pallet just in time to slam it down, seeing Leatherface right behind him. He kept running, jumping over the stone half-wall and back around to the pallet. The chainsaw revved, then tore through the wood. Dwight took the opportunity to run. 

His heart still pounded, knowing full well he was still being chased. He ran through the cornfield, hoping to lose his trail and recover. He looked over his shoulder, not seeing Leatherface behind him. He kept running, hoping to double back and completely lose his trail. 

The hammer connected to his forehead just as he was at the edges of the field, in front of the gruesome tree. He collapsed to the ground, head pounding. He couldn’t see straight; everything was spinning around him. He heard footsteps around him, and the crackling of fireworks. He winced, the bright flash hurting his eyes. Blood streamed down his face over his right eye, and Dwight already knew part of his skull would be shattered. He couldn't will himself to get up, the pounding in his head too overwhelming. 

He was lifted off the ground, draped over someone’s shoulder that was too tall to be one of the survivors. He tried to free himself, but Leatherface’s grip was far too tight for him to get free before feeling the searing pain of a hook go through his chest. He let out whimpers and groans of pain, the pounding in his head not helping. It had started to lessen, and he was lifted off the hook. He tried taking a step forward, collapsing again with a groan. 

He felt someone put their hand on his shoulder. He was guided to his feet and lead to the stone wall near the tree, his back against it. He reached his hand up to his eye, wiping some blood away to no avail in seeing out of his right eye. He presses his palm against his forehead to stop some bleeding. David was next to him, arm around his back protectively. It took the Leader a few moments to realize David was talking; he could hear him but nothing seemed to make sense. 

His head hurt so bad, the pounding only getting louder. That was the only thing he could focus on; anything else was too jumbled. Fear settled in as his mind wandered, Dwight trying to keep his breath calm as a red tint washed over the wall. His attention stayed erratic, staring wide-eyed at the ground. He heard something, then was pulled to his feet and guided in a sprint.

He registered the cry David let out, turning his head to look back. The pounding was starting to subside, now hearing David catching his breath. The loud siren that went off made him wince. They started walking again, Dwight sticking close to keep himself from falling. He pressed his palm to his forehead again, never realizing when he had lowered it in the first place. The warmth would've been comforting if it wasn't blood. The grinding of metal seemed to drill in his head, and he couldn't help the groan of pain.

David's arms around tighter around him as they kept walking. His head started pounding again, walking was more of a stagger, and Dwight wanted nothing more than to just lay down and close his eyes. The revving of a chainsaw was right next to him, but no hit ever came as he was pushed forward. He felt it barely skim his shirt, but nothing more as he felt cold fog close in. 

David didn’t let go of Dwight until they were back at the campfire. Even in his grip, Dwight swayed as he walked and clung to his shirt and jacket. He took care in gently setting Dwight down beside a log, not missing the quiet whine that came from the Leader. David pulled Dwight’s arm away from his head, noting how much blood there was and how hard the hammer had connected with his skull. 

He wasn’t going to wait for anyone else to bring a medkit over. He grabbed the nearest one and immediately grabbed supplies out of it, using what knowledge he knew to stop the worst of the bleeding and pain. He felt Dwight shudder, feeling guilty for unintentionally hurting him more. The antiseptic stung, but he was able to clean up the blood and bandage Dwight’s head. Dwight’s breath was shaky, and the way he weakly and tentatively reached his arm out tugged on David’s heart. 

He sat against the log, scooting Dwight forward so that the Leader would be resting on him. David wrapped his arms around Dwight, making sure the jacket fit around him. David knew well what concussions were like, Rugby had taught him well. He was fine with taking a beating for a good thrill, but Dwight wasn’t any such person to seek that out. He turned to cling to David’s shirt, burying his face in the jacket. David smiled softly, planting a quick kiss on the top of Dwight’s head before turning his attention around the fire, keeping an eye out and allowing Dwight some much needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by [this](https://notthebasement.tumblr.com/post/165586133257/steam-link-x-progress-x-ive-been) piece of art, and I still keep looking at it. Poor Dwight bb.


	42. The Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE BE WARNED: THIS CHAPTER IS ESPECIALLY GOREY. 
> 
> Dwight and David meet the newest Killer.

The world was new to Amanda, the Entity was a strange being that whispered in her ears. She heard it and never saw it, it’s whispers of how there were people to sacrifice. With her mask and cloak, she watched these people quietly. She observed how they acted, every single flaw. Every single one would be met with equal consequences; she’d tear these people apart. It was what John would want of her. 

She heard him, too. Sometimes a faint whisper, other times so deafening she was sure she wouldn’t hear anything else ever again. The rules were important to follow, all to this game. The Entity made the rules. _Another piece to the puzzle._ There were tests to be conducted, game to be played, sinners to punish, fools, unworthy, _they must die, die, all part of this game. They had to, have to, forever, until they cannot stand any more. Until every last drop of blood is drained from their bodies, they have to make choices, they have to die._

She stood with a shaky breath, hearing the whispers of bloodshed, murder, madness, sins; _it was time._

 

The chill in the air made Dwight shiver. It was unnatural, more so than anything else he had felt before. He knew something was wrong even before he saw anything, the fog too thick around him. When it cleared, he saw the area around him. A freezer, and the decayed body sitting neatly in the chair. He took several stops back, darting his attention around in a panic. This was new, and new things were always dangerous. Fear tended to occupy his thoughts, but never consumed him to inaction. 

The flickering of static made him spin around, the tv screen alighting with snow for several seconds before it cleared to a dark room. He squinted, staring at the screen and cautiously walking forward. He watched the camera shown on the screen slowly turn, to a puppet with spiraled cheeks. The puppet’s head slowly turned, yet he saw no one operating it. The voice that sounded from the screen made him tense, the woman sounded sickeningly calm. 

“I’d like to play a game, Dwight Fairfield.” 

_Another Killer._ He remained quiet, listening intently to the voice as she spoke. 

“Currently, you have nothing to fear. All you have to do is watch, and I can guarantee your safety.” 

The screen switched back to static, then in another heartbeat it was a view of a camera pointing down at a tiled room. The person in the camera’s view was unmistakable to him; David King. _Watch? I have to help him!_ The door to the freezer was open, and Dwight took off out of it. He heard David’s shout echo down the hallway. _Hold on, I’m on my way!_ He kept running at full sprint, hearing David curse at everything around him. 

His heart jumped to his throat when he felt the floor give out underneath him. His forehead collided with metal, and he felt himself lose his balance and drift in and out of consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, feeling the cold of metal around his chest and back. He shook his head, standing to his feet and finding himself at the other side of a clear pane, David on the other side standing in the light while he himself was in the dark. Dwight started banging on the glass desperately. 

“You have a choice, Dwight Fairfield. Choose wisely.” 

The lights went dark for just a moment, then turned back on. He saw the person standing in front of where he was, cloaked in black and red. He saw their head tilt, long hair falling over their shoulders. He could see David, arms tense and held by shining wires. The figure made no effort to move or speak, even as David shouted. 

“Fuck off already, will ya? I’m gettin’ out of this and beatin’ the shit outta ya. You fuckin’ hear me?!” 

He pulled his right arm forward, tugging just too hard on the wiring. The figure was unfazed as hooked blades swung out from the ceiling, lodging themselves in David’s arm. Dwight stared in horror, mouth gaping as he heard David scream in pain. He closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from watching. Dwight heard David’s pant to catch his breath. 

“Fuckin’.. Say something! Pig-faced whore.” 

Dwight jumped at the voice that sounded again, coming from a speaker in the wall. 

“In order to survive, you must sacrifice what you care about. The switch behind you will grant you freedom.” 

Everything about this was screaming ‘danger’ to Dwight. He shook his head, looking around for anything he could grab onto that wasn’t the switch. He turned away at the metallic click, the sickening cracking and crunching, and David’s blood-curdling scream, slowly looking over after a moment. 

He doubled over at the sight of David’s arm limp. The bone was held neatly between hooks of the blades. _Oh my God, oh my god, oh my god oh my god-_

He vomited onto the floor. He took deep, shaky breaths, spotting the loose tile on the floor. He grabbed it and turned it over in his hands, noticing his arms shake _so badly_ it was hard to realize it was his own hand. Desperation took over, he had to save David. He saw metal blades start to shift above his left arm. _Come on!_ He slammed the tile as hard as he could into the pane, glass shattering. Behind it was a mess of wires and circuitry, and Dwight realized too late it was a screen. He turned to the door behind him, metal swinging open as he stood face to face with the cloaked figure, seeing the twisted mask for himself. 

He could tell now it was a woman, and he could only assume it was the same as the one who spoke to him. She stepped aside, revealing _what was left_ of David. He stood frozen, staring at the broken, bloody mess crumpled on the floor. Cracked and broken bones littered the floor, with pieces of organs strewn across the room like they’d been thrown. He had to fight back the urge to vomit again. 

“Game over.” 

The woman spoke, tilting her head as a ticking started. Dwight looked down to his chest, hearing the ticking race faster and faster. He scrambled to try and pry the cage off of him, hands grabbing at anything to try and make any progress. 

The ticking sped up and finally stopped. Dwight could only feel and watch the cage dig into his chest and back and tear itself apart, tearing ribs and internal organs. He could feel parts of his body slip down to the floor, his legs somehow still holding him up. He collapsed backwards when the figure walked closer, looming over him. 

The mask was the last thing he saw before the blackness of the Entity took over, unable to tell if she was laughing or crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of inspired writing with the new release.


	43. Leader's Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace tries to give some support to the Leader with terrible luck.

Ace always lived his life relying on luck. He enjoyed the thrill of it, and adored the inevitable rage and confusion of others against him who weren't as lucky as he was. He was used to playing unfairly, cheating the system to keep up with others who would do exactly the same. The Entity’s realm wasn't so different, except he had others on his side. 

He liked them for the most part; he could live with a few abrasive personalities just fine. It was funny, how the most nervous of them was more often than not referred to as the Leader of the group. Dwight was good company, but doubted himself plenty and often chewed on his nails. _Nasty habit._

As he grew more and more comfortable with the survivors around him, Ace tried in subtle ways to lift their mood and keep them going. He was well aware of how easy it was to give up, but none of them could afford it. He found plenty of good things in the chest around the trials, often giving them to others. He lead his life hand in hand with Lady Luck. 

He noticed when Dwight stared absentmindedly into the fire, eyes unfocused. Ace tapped his shoulder, making him jump. 

“You alright there? Spacin’ out from the looks of it.” 

Dwight had looked over and nodded. 

“Yeah, I'm alright. Just.. thinking.” 

Ace sat down and leaned back. 

“If you want my honest opinion, there's no point in worrying every second of the day. Only gonna make it harder to actually get to doing something.”

Dwight turned his gaze back to the fire, watching the flames dance around the logs. 

“I don’t get how you can’t ever be worried. Every trial I walk into, I have to try my best to make sure everyone gets out. I worry about messing up a lot.” 

Ace shrugged his shoulders. 

“Sometimes things just don’t work out how ya want. I’ve always made the most of what I get.” 

Dwight shook his head slightly. 

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got some of the worst luck. I can’t exactly rely on that like you do.”

Ace gave a sad smile. It was painfully true, based on how many bad situations Dwight often got into. Not out of any fault of his, it was the Entity’s servants always going after him. He gave Dwight a pat on the shoulder. 

“Nah, the Entity’s got a real bad grudge against ya. Doesn’t help much, but, it’s a matter of learnin’ how to work with it.” 

Ace lifted his sunglasses to the rim of his cap. 

“I gotta give you credit for handling all this without going crazy. I have no clue what I’d do in your place. But, if I can help out somehow, you just gotta let me know.” 

Ace wanted to help, but emotional support wasn’t exactly something he knew well. His handled his own emotions wildly differently. Dwight took a deep breath, looking over to Ace with a small smile. 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Ace.” 

Ace put his sunglasses back over his eyes, grinning in his typical, nonchalant way. 

“Don’t mention it, but I’m only giving this one pass. Can’t give out all my life advice for free, y’know.” 

Ace saw the roll of Dwight’s eyes, opting to lay back with his arms behind his head and rest. He could tell Dwight was still staring at the fire, the leader letting out a deep breath and laying down nearby. _Good, poor guy needs the rest._ He closed his eyes, staying awake until he was sure Dwight was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how short these drabbles are becoming, I'm just sorta finding it harder and harder to come up with ideas as a sorta writer's block sets in. I hope they're still enjoyable!


	44. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Jake and Claudette bonding, poor girl just wants everyone to be safe.

Claudette couldn’t have been happier when the snow finally melted and the environment returned to normal. The snow was a refreshing shift from the normal scenery, but Claudette missed the green that she got used to. Her garden looked much more vibrant with the bright colors around it. She had caught sight of new things coming, and would worry about that when it came time to face them.

For now, she carefully readjusted the plants in her garden, giving them ample room to grow and flourish. Even if it meant little as a whole, it gave Claudette a peace of mind she sometimes sorely needed like now. She stressed over the wellbeing of her friends, and often worked constantly to make sure she could ease their pain. It was exhausting. 

She could feel the other person’s presence before she heard any noise from them. She grabbed her bag of remedies and bandages, turning to watch them step out from the woods. Jake calmly walked out, bloody with scratches but as composed as normal. Pain affected him, and she knew it, but he didn’t let it show as best as he could. 

She didn’t hesitate in grabbing his arm and moving him to the clear spot she had set up to take care of the others. She sat down beside him, cleaning up the injury on his shoulder. 

“Everything go okay?” 

Jake nodded, sitting still as Claudette gently treated him after he took his jacket off. 

“Yeah, we’re all okay. Promise.” 

She took a deep breath, focusing on the injuries. She caught sight of the bandages already there, clearly self-applied. She delicately peeled them back, even as Jake moved to stop her hand. She saw the deep gash, then heard Jake’s quiet sigh. 

“Jake, what happened?” 

He turned his attention away, sitting motionless. 

“Killers still don’t like me much. We all got out fine.” 

She frowned. It was no secret to anyone that she didn’t want to see anyone so badly hurt, especially when it came to Jake. The saboteur always bore his pain quietly, even when it was especially bad. It never failed to make her heart ache. 

“Do you need me to look at it still?” 

He shook his head, Claudette taking the time to focus her attention on other wounds. She let herself relax when she finished treating everything she could. 

“There, that should stop hurting soon and be healed soon with rest. Are the others hurt too?”

“No, they're okay. Quentin had it handled.” 

Claudette nodded, letting out a deep breath she wasn't even aware she was holding in. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder. 

“I'm glad it wasn't worse.” 

Jake slowly turned his head, reaching with his other arm to rub her upper arm. 

“It's okay, Claudette. You know I'm always going to be here for you.” 

She smiled, only hugging tighter as she looked up to meet his gaze. 

“I know, I just don't want to see you or anyone else hurt.” 

She felt Jake sigh. It was an impossible wish, to never see them hurt, when every trial was against a monster that wanted their deaths on a hook. That wouldn’t stop her from hoping each time they would get away without any harm. Sometimes it happened, and it was enough to keep Claudette hoping there would be another time. 

Jake shifted in her grip, turning to face her and hug her close with her head buried in his chest instead. She felt his arms around her back, gently rubbing the tension away from her muscles. It was a fact that she hadn’t slept well lately; sometimes it was an inevitable fact to have to stay up taking care of the others. Jake was warm and comfortable, and Claudette didn’t want to move away. 

“I promise, I can look out for myself when I need to. I don’t want you wearing yourself thin worrying about me.” 

She let out a sigh. 

“I know, it’s just.. I can’t _not_ worry.” 

Jake nodded, pulling Claudette closer. 

“Then rest. I’ll keep an eye out.” 

Claudette nodded, Jake scooting back to lean against a tree with Claudette still on top of him. She made an effort to relax, letting herself enjoy the warmth being close to him provided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly getting to those requests!


	45. Blessing of Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myers is obsessed with Claudette and her kindness.

Michael was accustomed to trial after trial, with the sole intention of killing everyone he ran into. He tended to obsessed with one of them, typically Laurie. Sometimes, through some strange power, he felt that obsession with another. The reasoning was never the same, but the result always was. He wanted them dead, well and gone, but he wanted to toy with them too; To keep them alive until the very last moment. It was a conflict that was always present, but they all were to die if things went well. 

This was a trial where he wanted his obsession gone as quickly as possible, the dying light extinguished and all hope gone from this trial. And yet, it wasn’t that simple. She was so selfless, always finding herself at the ones he injured and slinking away. It was irritating, and he could feel the quiet rage building as it happened again and again. 

Even as he ruthlessly cut down the others, she was always trying her damnedest to save them. It was so _aggravating_ , yet he could also admire the determination in her. He couldn’t understand devoting his life to others, but when he saw her do it every trial, time and time again without fail, it made him curious on what would drive a person to be that way. It grew into its own obsession; he had to know _why._

She was determined to help the selfish young woman, who valued the generators over the lives of others. _But why?_ The woman, the technician, never bothered with others unless it was also in her own benefit. _Why give anything to that type of person?_ He found the two of them, the typical selfless healer doing what she did best, and the technician quietly sitting still. They hadn’t noticed him yet, and it was too late by the time he swung at the technician. 

“Hey, leave her alone!” 

He turned when he heard the cry, the technician narrowly avoiding the swing and running off. He knew their names, but it mattered little to him. Claudette took off after a moments hesitation as he stood still, simply watching. He understood her fear, but not the sudden courage. The technician was long gone, but he would leave her be. He needed to know what drove Claudette. 

It was simple, to track her down and begin the chase again. At this point in the trial, with two gone, most pallets were destroyed, and he knew he would inevitably catch up. He finally grabbed her when she had tried to jump through a window in an act of desperation. He was surprised to hear no generators powering on. 

She had naturally screamed and struggled, trying to free herself from his grip. He set her down on the ground, simply staring at her. There was little really impressive about her. She was not muscular, like the scrapper that often went charging at him, or particularly devious like the sneak or the saboteur. He watched her stare back at him, wide-eyed in fear but strangely indignant. 

“..What are you doing?” 

What was he doing? He should be doing the Entity’s bidding and moving on to find the last one. The technician always wanted to escape; he had to move on to find her. He turned to go search, pausing when he heard the same voice. 

“Hey, I’m still here! Leave Feng alone!” 

The amount of caring for someone so undeserving made him almost angry. 

“Why.” 

It was more a demand than a question. She was taken aback, yet the resolve never left her eyes. 

“I won't let my friends be hurt.” 

“Why do you care?” 

“Why wouldn't I?” 

He fell silent, the tension in the air as thick as the fog around them. She was a mystery he did not understand, and she only made him more confused. He picked her up off the ground, the tip of the knife poking at her neck as he held her by the collar of her shirt. She winced, keeping herself as quiet as possible. Only now did he hear the generator power on. There was only one left to do, but he didn’t care. 

He was conflicted, between driving the blade into her jaw or talking more. He still wanted to _understand._

“They’re my friends. I care about them, and I’m not going to stand to see them hurt if I can help it.” 

He tilted his head. What was one supposed to say to that? He heard the last generator power on, somewhat close to him. He took the opportunity now to throw her aside, walking off to find the technician. He knew she would head for the gate immediately. The shouts behind him were irrelevant; he caught up easily and found the selfish teammate crouching behind a tree near the door. 

He held Feng up, ready to impale her with his knife when he saw Claudette again. She had a flashlight in her hands and didn't hesitate shining it into his eyes. He groaned in pain, hearing them run off in a panic. When his vision returned, he only saw the red, scratchy marks etched into the ground. He calmly followed after them, leaving the gate behind. The marks were all over the place, and eventually he found Claudette waiting beside a window to jump through. 

This was starting to get _irritating._

She shined the light in his face again, this time being able to react and turn his head away. She instead had run around the building, avoiding the window entirely. He followed the scratches, attention alert for anything that moved. The marks lead back to the door, and he saw the red light above the switch and heard the metal creak open. 

Feng and Claudette ran out into the fog. He simply stood and stared as it closed in around him. He would either understand her, or see the dying light of hope in her fizzle out. Whichever came first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm picking up the pace with these again, so expect quite a few in the next few days!


	46. Just Teasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feng and Quentin share laughs over teasing Dwight.

On rare occasions, the Killer of a trial wasn’t an entirely murderous being. None of the survivors could fully understand why. Perhaps it was the Entity’s will being less strict on the Killer, or the Killer’s willpower alone. Some of them didn’t want to be murderers; it was the role they were forced to play in the grand theatre of the Entity’s trials. Sometimes, it was easy to tell if they were being nice, other times it was much more difficult. 

In a trial with Quentin, Dwight, and Jake, Feng found herself against the Hillbilly. There was consolation they were on Blood Lodge; there were plenty of places Feng could weave between to avoid the chainsaw blade. They had all burned offerings to appease the Entity and grant them more rewards for surviving; ‘points’ they could use to pull useful items from the fog. 

Sometimes, she knew, Killers played nicely to allow as many points as possible. Perhaps it was a rare treat from the Entity, to allow them to hope each trial would be as such. She heard the chainsaw rev in the distance, then Quentin’s scream of pain as she saw him fall to the ground through the aura. Normally, she wanted to focus on generators and escape, letting the others fend for themselves. But, Quentin was far more than patient with her, and he deserved at least a chance, and she wasn’t going to leave him without trying if this time was with a merciless trial. 

Dwight saved him before she did, hearing the heartbeat accelerate rapidly with the foreboding whirring of the chainsaw. She turned to stay out of sight, watching the Hillbilly’s attention focus on Dwight. She followed the pools of blood to where Quentin was crouching behind a rock, whimpering in pain. 

“Stay still and don’t say anything.” 

Quentin nodded once, the small smile not going unseen by Feng as she tended to him. They heard Dwight cry out in pain, Quentin standing up to walk over when Feng was done healing his injuries. The Hillbilly was terrifyingly accurate with his chainsaws, evidenced by when Jake screamed out. 

Feng had ended up losing count how many times they had been hit by the chainsaw as a team. Somehow, someone was always still standing, able to help the others to their feet or off a hook. All of them were on their last hook, yet the Hillbilly decidedly left them on the ground if they were. _I know a farming Killer when I see one_. Feng decided to take the opportunity to have some fun. 

She and Quentin stuck close to Dwight while Jake worked on generators. The Hillbilly had been running around and breaking pallets that had been thrown down, just now returning to the actual house. Feng and Dwight were inside, while Quentin worked on a generator outside. She grinned as Dwight stepped near the locker. 

“Hey, Dwight.” 

He looked over, realizing too late what she was planning. She pushed him to the locker and closed the door on him, holding it closed. 

“FENG, COME ON!” 

She couldn’t help laughing hysterically as Dwight struggled to get out of the locker. She saw the red stain appear next to her, the Hillbilly watching curiously. She kept laughing as Dwight pushed against the locker door. 

“FENG, PLEASE! LET ME OUT ALREADY!” 

She was too preoccupied by the tears in her eyes to respond. She could clearly hear Dwight’s voice, a mix of laughing and sobbing. The Hillbilly had made sure they were both injured, but otherwise stood still and peacefully. The generator nearby powered on, and Quentin walked over and looked around. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

He looked at Feng and the locker, seeing the door open slightly and Dwight struggling to open the locker. He couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nearly doubling over at the ridiculousness. He took several steps away when the Hillbilly smacked his arm with the sledgehammer, but still kept laughing. 

“Feng, Feng come on, let him out.”

He struggled to talk through tears of laughter. Dwight managed to squeeze himself out of the door of the locker, taking off running with Feng after him. Quentin followed after, trying to catch up to Dwight. 

“Hey, wait, come back! Let me heal you!” 

“NO, I DON’T TRUST EITHER OF YOU!” 

The Hillbilly followed after Feng and Quentin, who took off to chase after Dwight. Feng was still in tears laughing, Quentin barely managing to keep himself from another outburst of laughter. 

“Dwight, please, I swear I’m just going to heal you!” 

Feng laughed harder at Quentin trying to help, and Dwight refusing to stop. Jake worked on generators in the distance, more than likely working in silent contempt as they messed around. No matter what Quentin said, Dwight refused to stop sprinting away. The chase eventually simply turned into one to catch Dwight. The Hillbilly was as equally entertained, if the brief revs of the chainsaw were any indication. 

The gates powered on, and Dwight made a beeline for the gate that was closest to the finished generator. By the time they had run around wreckage and mazes of scrap, the gate was open and Jake was long gone. As they ran into the fog, the Hillbilly’s chainsaw revved, and he sprinted off into the other direction. 

Back at the campfire, Dwight made sure to sit on the other side of the campfire. Feng doubled over, still wheezing with laughter. Quentin couldn’t help laugh alongside her. 

“Holy _shit_ , that was amazing.” 

“For you, maybe.” 

Dwight pouted, leaving Feng to burst into laughter again. Quentin looked in Dwight’s direction, smiling. 

“I’m sorry, Dwight.” 

“NO YOU’RE NOT.” 

Quentin couldn’t help laughing again, and the retort made Feng laugh even harder. Despite the pout, Dwight had a very small smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based off a game with friends, we had burned Bloody Party Streamers (I contributed a bound envelope on account of still prestiging) and the Hillbilly was friendly for it. Dwight got in the locker and Feng wouldn't let him out, and then it was me (Quentin) and Feng chasing Dwight around. It was funnier in actual gameplay, there were legit tears.


	47. Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudette, Nea, and Meg have some time to relax.

Survivors knew to take the moment to enjoy any downtime they got, to take a break from the high stress of running for one’s life. It was rare for Claudette to have total peace of mind, but the goal of keeping her friends safe and healthy was a powerful motivator. When she found the time now to rest and allow Quentin to take care of the others for her, she took a deep breath and made her way to the area Meg and Nea had made for her. 

The hammock’s cloth was soft and comforting, and being able to lay suspended between the trees instead of on the ground was a welcome change. She curled up in the hammock, closing her eyes for just a few moments before hearing the sound of leaves rustling. With a quiet groan, she sat up to see who was coming to see her. 

Meg jogged over, Nea walking up behind her. Meg’s wide grin was infectious. 

“Hey sleepyhead. Liking the hammock, huh?” 

Claudette nodded, rubbing her eyes. 

“I was just about to take a nap. Did you two need something?” 

She looked between both of them, Meg shrugging. 

“Thought you could use some company!”

When Meg started climbing into the hammock alongside Claudette, Claudette’s hands gripped the edges of the fabric. 

“Wait a second, it’s gonna tear!” 

“It’s not, don’t worry!” 

Nea laughed, watching Meg scrambling into the hammock on the far side. The fabric, true to Meg’s word, didn’t tear. 

“See? It’s sturdy stuff!” 

Nea followed in climbing into the hammock, leaving Claudette in the middle between her and Meg. 

“You two planned for this, didn’t you?” 

“I did. Meg didn’t.” 

Nea grinned, looking over to Meg’s pout. 

“It didn’t come to my mind until after she mentioned, but I was the one who found the right fabric! It was a team effort.” 

Claudette couldn’t help but laugh, laying back and resting her arms on her stomach. 

“You two are ridiculous.” 

“But you love it, right?” 

Meg grinned, resting her head on Claudette’s shoulder and looking up expectantly. Claudette just sighed with a small smile, closing her eyes. 

“You both know I do, even if you make me worry a lot more than necessary.” 

Nea snorted, arms behind her head. 

“If no one else is gonna vandalize the Entity’s shit and make life hell for it, then I just have to step up.” 

Meg laughed, leaving Claudette to shake her head in mock disdain. They settled into the fabric of the hammock, dozing off and enjoying the peace and quiet, and the close company of each other.


	48. Can't Fight Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David gets sick, and Dwight and Jake help him out.

David King was always a robust individual; he was able to take a beating before being knocked down. David was a fighter, through and through, and he knew it himself. It caught him off guard when he started to feel himself feel worse and worse after each trial, even after dying. He kept quiet about it, even as his rage built when he was performing worse and worse each trial. 

This fact wasn’t missed by either Jake or Dwight. Jake was keenly aware of small changes in the others; he had to be observant of his surroundings in order to survive back home. Dwight was too used in watching the small changes in others, to avoid potential danger. Both of them noticed the way David dozed while sitting up, or stared unfocused in the distance now and then.

In the downtime between trials, David let himself rest as much as he could. He couldn't get sick, not in a place like this. Not when people depended on him. He was dozing by the warmth of the fire when he heard hushed voices, all too familiar to him. 

“Oi, Jake, Dwight, I can hear ya.” 

He felt the back of a hand on his forehead, their skin ice cold. He shot up, opening his eyes and glaring at Jake who was slipping his glove back on. 

“Th’fuck was that for?” 

“You're getting sick.” 

David narrowed his eyes. _How was he so damn sure?_

“I've been next to a fucking fire for God knows how long. ‘Course I'm gonna be warm.”

Jake crossed his arms, unfazed by the retort.

“I think I can tell when someone is sick, David. Your health is more important than your pride.”

David moved to stand, but Dwight gently pushed him down. 

“You just need a little bit of rest, David. You can't keep pushing yourself when you aren't feeling well.”

David groaned, letting himself sit back against the nearest log. 

“S’not bad. I’ll be fine.” 

“You can’t fight a fever like you fight another person, you know that, right?” 

“I’m not a fuckin’ idiot, Jake. Unless you ‘aven’t fuckin’ noticed, we don’t exactly get to take vacation days around ‘ere.” 

Dwight looked between the two of them, putting his hands on their shoulders. 

“Okay, let’s just take a deep breath for a second.”

David took a slow, deep breath. Jake turned his attention to the fire for a moment, before looking back to David. 

“..Sorry for snapping.” 

David rubbed his eyes, already feeling tiredness seep in. Dwight sat next to him, and David saw Jake pull something out of his jacket pocket. It was a small bag that Jake dug into, pulling out several herbs. 

“Claudette gave these to me. They should help you feel better.” 

David took the herbs, eating them as Jake moved to sit on the other side of David. David closed his eyes to doze off, sleepily aware of how Jake and Dwight had wrapped their arms around him.


	49. Do Not Go Softly Into That Good Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Quentin run into Freddy.

Quentin had become a far more observant individual since his fight against Freddy alongside Nancy. He had been incredibly angry at himself for slipping up, for nearly letting Freddy take her forever. He promised himself it wouldn’t ever happen again, to her or anyone else that went against the Dream Demon. In the Entity’s realm, it was an ever-present fight against all of the Killers, but Quentin’s resolve was stronger than steel against Freddy. 

Jake was observant because of living alone in the woods, where a myriad of fauna was likely to try and make a meal out of him. Jake was skilled at being undetected, avoiding tell-tale signs of where a living thing was headed or where it had been. Showing pain was often a weakness, and it was one he hid well. 

Even against Freddy, in the realm where he had control, Jake maintained his composure. He was able to hide all fear and pain, instead showing indignant determination against the Demon. All the survivors knew what Freddy had been before the Entity’s realm, taking revenge on those undeserving. _Despicable excuse for a human being_. 

Trials in Badham Preschool reminded Quentin of the entire fight to bring Freddy down, and fueled him to finish it once and for all. So far, the trial had gone well. Almost all of the generators were done, and only a few run-ins with him so far. Even so, the silence and peacefulness made Quentin nervous. He calmly walked into the Preschool building, towards the soft humming of children singing. 

Something was terribly wrong, and some unknown force made sure Quentin knew it. Whether it was his own intuition or the Entity’s influence, Quentin didn’t care. _Freddy won’t take another person._ He descended down the steps to the boiler room, the singing getting louder. He spotted Jake, his eyes closed and teeth gritted, attention focused on something in front of him. It was still unsettling to see someone asleep while standing and moving, but it never stopped him from doing what he had to do to stop Freddy. 

“HEY, OVER HERE! IT’S ME YOU WANT, MOTHERFUCKER!” 

The fog around him brightened, and he saw the leaf-like ashes fall around him. Freddy’s deep laughter sounded around him as he was slowly starting to see the Demon. _Still the same fucked up face_. 

“Back so soon, Quentin? I didn't think you missed me so much.” 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Now that's hardly fitting for such a nice reunion.”

Quentin just wanted Jake to leave already, but the Saboteur stayed put, clutching his side. Quentin felt the deep seated rage build in him. 

“What's the matter, Quentin? This is so familiar, isn't it? Except this time, I could leave you where you stand and make you watch as I-” 

“SHUT UP ALREADY!” 

Quentin shouted as he lunged forward, thankful for the sliver of glass Laurie had given him. He stabbed it into Freddy's face, neck, and chest, over and over and over again. 

“JUST DIE! DIE AND STAY DEAD!” 

Quentin lost count of how many times he had stabbed Freddy, the glass digging into his hand as he gripped tighter and tighter. He was slammed into the nearest wall, Freddy readjusting his hat. 

“Now that.. is rude and uncalled for. So much for civility.”

Quentin breathed deeply to catch his breath. His hand was bleeding badly, but the pain right now was irrelevant. He leaned against the locker next to him, his head throbbing after it being slammed against brick. He saw Freddy step closer, letting clawed fingers scrape against the metal of the locker. 

“Enough niceties, then.” 

Freddy’s claws drew back to slash at Quentin. He had ducked out of the way, just in time for Jake to slam the door of the locker into Freddy’s back. 

“Let’s go!” 

Jake and Quentin ran for the stairs, hoping to make it to the of the gates that should be powered and open by now. Their pounding hearts told them Freddy was close behind, and Quentin heard the familiar, angry shouting from Freddy. 

“YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE ME AGAIN?!” 

They kept running, hoping to make it to the gate at the other side of the sparse trees and bushes. Quentin felt the sting of metal claws dig into his back, but he couldn’t stop. He pulled Jake forward, sprinting with everything he had. He heard the distinct sound of metal swinging through the air behind him as they ran into the fog past the gate. 

Neither of them stopped until they reached the safety of the campfire. They collapsed by the fire, taking deep breaths to recollect themselves. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

Quentin looked over to Jake, who nodded several times. 

“Yeah, fine.” 

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Quentin too tired and Jake too typically quiet to find any words to say. It was an unspoken agreement that they would try and avoid another situation like that again, but the possibility of that was slim at best. Instead, they took the time now to rest, enjoying the peace and quiet of the gentle night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going strong on these requests, I've almost posted all the ones I've got sitting around now!


	50. New Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight gets Hanahaki Disease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dwight is coughing up Gladiolus flowers, which represent remembrance. It also expresses infatuation, telling the receiver that he or she pierces the heart. It also stands for strength of character, faithfulness and honor.

Hanahaki Disease was something Dwight had only ever read about in school, a condition that he was sure didn't really apply to him. He had spent his high school years avoiding people rather than seeking them out. He watched several other classmates get the disease, and how the petals littered the halls at the start of a new school year. He saw them less and less as he grew and graduated from high school. He never learned much about it; a brief knowledge of the obvious symptoms and cause. It was enough to get by, and that was all really Dwight cared about. 

That is, until he noticed himself coughing more and more. _Do people get sick in the Entity’s realm?_ It started subtle at first, an irritated throat and coughing. Even after dying in a trial, it just wouldn't go away. When he saw the first blood covered petal, his heart sunk. 

He was in love with David King, the selfless scrapper who put himself in harm's way for all the others. How could he not be? David was so much of what Dwight wished he was, and even with the abrasive personality he had, David was still someone Dwight looked up to, admired, and truly loved. And it _hurt_ knowing it wasn't returned. 

Dwight felt like his heart had been crushed into a fine powder, and every trial with him made the feeling worse. Not to mention the time he needed to take to stop coughing up flowers and blood was getting longer and longer. It was only a matter of time before Claudette caught him at the outskirts. 

“Dwight? Are you okay?” 

He tried to compose himself, nodding. 

“Yeah, I'm okay, just-” 

He was interrupted by another coughing fit, seeing the flower bud fall to the ground. Claudette was at his side in an instant. 

“You definitely are not okay. How long has this been going on?” 

Dwight shook his head. _That's a good question._ When had he fallen in love with David? Claudette’s attention turned to the flower, picking it up delicately. 

“It's still getting worse, too?” 

He nodded, taking deep breaths. She inspected the flower bud intently, then looked to Dwight. 

“You're in love with David?” 

Dwight looked up to her, stunned and nervous. _How did she know?_ Almost on cue, she gave a reassuring smile. 

“I'm not going to tell him, don't worry. Flowers have plenty of meanings, and Hanahaki disease flowers usually are ones that represent the person you're in love with.”

He let out a sigh. It was hard to hide from Claudette when something was wrong; she tended to just know. 

“There’s just no way, y’know? Why would he like a guy like me? I’m pretty sure he’s not even interested in guys that way.” 

Dwight started biting his nails. Claudette grabbed his wrist to lower his arm, letting out a quiet sigh. 

“You'll never know unless you try. And it doesn't end well having the flowers removed. The Entity might do it at some point, and soon if it's getting worse so quickly.”

He was really wishing he had paid more attention to that part of health class now. 

“Hanahaki Disease can be cured one of two ways. Either, the person you love returns your feelings, or the flowers are forcibly removed. You won't die, but you won't be able to feel love ever again.” 

Dwight looked away from the serious gaze of Claudette. _What even was the point of love in a place like this?_ Again, as if aware of Dwight’s internal monologue, she crossed her arms. 

“I'm not going to cut them out, nor do I want you to let the Entity do it. It's going to be painful. Just tell him how you feel, please. I don’t want to see you being hurt by this any longer.” 

Dwight hated the sincere, concerned look Claudette had mastered. He looked to the flower bud, now carelessly strewn aside, and sighed. 

“Alright, I’ll tell him. Just.. if it doesn’t work out..”

“We’ll worry about that when we get there. I think it’ll go better than you think.” 

She gave a small smile, then turned to head back to the campfire. Dwight took another deep breath, following shortly after. There were a _multitude_ of ways this could backfire; Dwight knew he wasn’t a very good speaker. Regardless, he couldn’t worry about it right now. The draw of a trial was pulling him to the fog. 

The Meat Plant was an unsettling place; Tapp had told them about the kind of things that had happened there. The traces were still littered around, old decayed bodies still with the marks of how they were tortured and killed. He took a deep breath, the fog rolling over the ground like lazy clouds. No one was near him, but that was almost a blessing as he stifled his coughing. _Not now!_

He didn’t hear anything concerning yet, and started to work on a generator next to one of the many closed metal doors throughout the lower level of the plant. It was more of a maze than an actual factory of any kind, and the various dead-ends made him nervous. 

He heard the growl first, then the sound of a woman roaring as she charged with the hidden blade. He took off running from the generator, crying in pain as the blade connected with his back. He ran around the corner of the nearest wall, making a dash for the freezer. He knew she was crouching again, the action taking away the only indication he had besides keeping his eyes on her. 

Dwight hid around the corner of the wall, hoping to at least be able to keep her busy for a little longer. That was his goal, until he felt the need to cough again. He held his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle back the urge, but the uneven breathing was all Amanda needed to find him. She turned the corner in a sprint, the small blade slamming into Dwight’s stomach. He fell backwards, clutching his stomach in pain. 

Amanda watched quietly as Dwight turned his head and coughed up the flower buds, a grin slowly growing under her mask. She was too familiar with it for the longest time, until she had been chosen to undergo her baptism. She had devoted plenty of time to fully understanding the disease, and how to utilize it to her benefit in the tests she made, and what flowers symbolized what. The grin grew wider and wider as she took tough rope from her pockets, tying his legs together. 

Dwight was hung upside down from the small meathooks in the freezer, alongside the mutilated bodies of pigs. He saw her walk away, leaving him in the cold. He tried to lift himself and untie the rope, but the freezing air seeped into his body and made it hard to even try to undo the impossibly complicated knot. He could nearly touch the ground, hanging just an inch above it. He blinked several times, trying to keep himself calm as blood rushed to his head, hoping someone would find him. 

 

David hated this place. There were too many turns and fucked up traps for David’s liking. He didn’t fear them, but he hated the thought of them being used again. That, and the place was too much of a maze; and he counted way too many hooks too close to each other to feel entirely confident protecting the others. They were too many ways for the Killer to take someone out without him being able to stop it all. 

He heard Dwight’s cry of pain while working on a generator on the ground level of the factory, working on a generator in one of the many rooms. He immediately got up to try and find the stairs down, or any place he could get to the lower floor. He heard the heartbeat indicating the Killer’s presence, which he knew was the one who had come along with this hellhole. 

He couldn’t get caught now; he knew Feng would focus on generators, and it just wasn’t in his nature to let Dwight be hurt without doing something to help. David stayed at the edges of the terror radius, finding himself heading closer to the main room where this Killer had designed most of her machinations. He jumped up the steps to the room with the monitors, crouching just below the windows. The static on the screens caught his attention as it shifted, the sight on the screens making his blood boil. 

Every single screen had the same view; the camera in the freezer showing Dwight hanging upside down. David could barely see the foggy breaths, and.. Were those flowers? He turned his attention to the rest of the room, moving to find the hole in the floor that lead to the bathroom. It was always in the same place, he learned, and he knew it was a fast way to get down to the freezer. 

When he landed in the bathroom, he immediately bolted to find the freezer. Things shifted around all the time, but one constant was the bathroom was never too far from the freezer. The paint on the wall was enough indication he was at the right place as he sprinted past the concrete walls. 

Dwight’s gaze barely focused in the midst of the cold. He was losing feeling in his arms and legs, blinking rapidly when he heard heavy footsteps. He could always recognize David, the man was hard to miss. He was somewhat glad now his face was already red; feeling David’s arms around his waist to lift him off the hook made him blush furiously. His head spun as he was set down, David helping him free of the rope. 

“Come on, we’re gettin’ the fuck outta here.” 

Dwight dumbly nodded, following close behind David. They only had two generators left, and this was one of the rare moments David was glad that Feng was in this trial with them. He wanted to get out of this as soon as possible and address the fact that Dwight was sick. Not many took David as someone who had an extensive education, but part of him liked it that way. It wasn’t all that relevant to him in most cases, anyway. 

David kept his arm wrapped around Dwight, both to keep him steady and stifle as much of the bleeding as he could. He simply nodded to Feng as she walked past to head to the generator in the bathroom. David lead Dwight upstairs, pausing when Dwight grabbed onto the concrete half-wall at the top of the stairs to cough up blood and petals. _Now’s really not the time for this, come on…_

Dwight winced, shaking his head. 

“I’m okay, let’s keep going.” 

David hated having to wait. It was painfully clear Dwight needed help, but now just wasn’t the time to address it. Another generator powered on, but something told David they had to move. 

“Move it, go!” 

On cue, Amanda was roaring behind them. David pushed Dwight ahead of himself, focused now on keeping the Leader safe. The heartbeat pounded in his chest, but David’s determination kept him going. Just one more generator and they’d be able to escape. _Work faster, Feng!_ He dashed forward just before the blade swung, the blade harmlessly swinging through the air. 

He breathed quiet relief when the generators were all powered and done. He saved a key in his pocket to go ahead and try to use, and he was glad he did. He’d worry about the others later. He turned around a corner to get her to swing the blade into the concrete. He was extremely grateful to see the familiar metal trapdoor, jamming the key into the lock and shoving Dwight into it first. He hissed as the blade connected with his back, but willed himself to stay standing long enough to jump in. 

He staggered back to the campfire, rolling his shoulders. _Not gonna kill me just yet._ He turned his attention to Dwight, who was sitting beside the campfire with his arms wrapped around his stomach. 

“Oi, she getcha bad?” 

Dwight jumped, shaking his head. 

“No no, I’m fine!”

David sat next to him, arms crossed. 

“We both know that’s a fuckin’ lie. Who’s it for?”

“Wh-what?”

“I know what Hanahaki Disease is, Dwight. I’ve gotten one of the best educations you can get back home.” 

“Oh! Oh, right. Well..”

Dwight went to bite his nails, David’s hand reaching over to stop him. 

“Just spill it, Dwight. I’m not gonna give ya shit for it.”

_Deep breaths, Dwight._

“..It’s you.”

The silence that followed was _terrible_ , and Dwight wanted nothing more than to sink into his shirt. He was sure he fucked up now, based on the lack of any response from David. 

“..You serious?”

Dwight just nodded, bracing himself to be mocked. He blinked at the sudden hug. 

“Christ, Dwight, I ‘ad no fuckin’ clue. I thought it was obvious ‘ow I felt.” 

“Wait, you..?” 

“You think I’d get the shit beat outta me if I didn’t?”

Dwight couldn’t help laughing. He felt so ridiculous. Tears filled his eyes. 

“Oi, hey, what’s the matter?”

“No, no, I’m just.. Really glad. I thought.. I thought someone like you would never be remotely interested in even talking to a guy like me.” 

David turned to face Dwight, expression more serious. 

“Quit sellin’ yourself short like that. You aren’t as fuckin’ worthless as you think you are.” 

Without giving Dwight time to respond, David pulled him into a hug. 

“Enough of that shit, Dwight. I love ya to bits, and I don’t wanna see ya do that to yourself.” 

Dwight sat in shock for a few moments, then buried his face in David’s shirt. Being so close was reassuring and comforting, and Dwight didn’t wanna move just yet. He took a deep breath, noticing how clear his chest felt now and how _wonderful_ it felt.


	51. Eyes Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David really needs to open his eyes.

The swamp always had a rancid smell, from both the drained marsh and the smell of decay. The tall reeds were easy to hide in, but traps were also far too easy to miss in the marshlands. He wanted to make sure he found someone else quickly, in order to keep them safe from the Killer. He ran into Dwight at the generator in the distance, nodding to the Leader. 

“You get eyes on the Killer yet?”

Dwight shook his head, eyes focused on the wiring. 

“No, not yet. But, be careful and keep your eyes open.”

David nodded, walking to the other side of the generator and jumping when the phantasm of the Hag appeared in a burst of mud and screeching, making him jump. 

“..Answers that question.” 

David just sighed, keeping his attention on the phantasm until it disappeared. He knelt down to work on the generator. He had a bad feeling that this would be a long trial. They were only halfway done with the generator when David heard Claudette scream in pain, and he got up to head towards the scream. He broke into a run, jumping when he ran into yet another trap. He heard the Hag teleport to the trap, turning to keep her busy. 

He had to have run over three more traps just getting to the nearest pallet, each time the Hag getting scarily close. He slammed the pallet down as she tried to swing, running past it and hitting another trap. Claudette was fine now, that much was certain to him. He managed to shake her as her totems were being messed with by the others. 

He found Dwight again, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“David, are you okay? You ran into like… four traps.” 

“I’m fine, honest.” 

Dwight nodded, heading to a generator. 

“Sure, just.. Be careful? Don’t step in another trap.” 

“Dwight, I’m not gonna-”

On cue, David jumped when he stepped just too close to a trap. 

“David-”

“Dwight, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

David sighed, following Dwight to another generator. It was more ridiculous than irritating now, and Dwight couldn't hide the small grin and muffled laughs. 

“You're a lucky sonuva bitch, be glad I like you.” 

Dwight had to bite back laughter as he worked on the generator. They were able to get it running quickly, finishing their repairs as they heard another scream. This time it was Jake, Dwight’s attention darting to the reeds in the distance. David followed Dwight’s gaze, getting up from the generator. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get ‘im.” 

David ran off towards the scream, shouting when the Hag burst through the mud again. 

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE.” 

He heard the teleport behind him as he ran, somewhat glad she had shifted her focus onto him. Yet something didn't quite add up; she had stopped chasing an injured man to go after one who was fine. He ran away from the spot, figuring there was some totem there she wanted to protect. For now, he'd buy time for Claudette to patch up Jake and to let Dwight take care of the generators. 

He vaulted over a broken wall, hearing the Hag’s claws smack against it. It didn't take much longer for there to be the unmistakable thunder of a broken totem. She hissed, turning around to run in the direction of it. 

“Oi, mangled fuckwit! I'm not done with you yet!”

He grabbed the nearest piece of debris and threw it at her, the wood piece hitting her in the back of the head. She turned with a growl, continuing the chase after David. He turns the corner of the debris wall, jumping when the Hag burst out. This time, she was able to teleport there and slash his side. 

The others had managed to get the last generators running, and David was thankful he was at least a good distraction. She kept chasing him until claws raked down his back again, making him stumble forward. The Hag turned to leave him, heading towards the gates. David took deep breaths, willing himself to his feet again. He had to make it to a gate, or the hatch, whichever he found first. 

The pounding of his heartbeat was a consistent drumming; she had to be somewhere near the exit gate waiting. He waited quietly, walking out when the pounding started to fade. At the entrance of the open gate, David jumped when another trap went off. When the Hag teleported to the trap, he dashed past it in a final burst of adrenaline, running into the fog. He slowed down at the campfire, stopping entirely to catch his breath as the others turned to look at him. Dwight stood up first, jogging over. 

“David, are you okay?” 

David took a deep breath, nodding. 

“Yeah, fine.” 

Dwight gave a nod, then took his glasses off to clean them. Then, Dwight handed the glasses to David. 

“I think you’re gonna need them more than me.” 

The others at the campfire burst into laughter, Dwight barely restraining a wide grin. David shook his head, grabbing Dwight by his waist to lift him over his shoulder. 

“You wanna be a cheeky lil shit, huh?!”

“David, put me down, I’m sorry!” 

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” 

David set Dwight down, putting him in a playful headlock while being careful to not damage his glasses. The others at the campfire couldn’t stop laughing as Dwight shouted for mercy, and David had a growing grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hilarious request I loved fulfilling.


	52. Mercy for the Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sally and Philip have a talk about their situation.

Philip hated this world. He hated having to kill people who had never done anything in their lives to deserve this sort of hell. He had observed and tracked these people for ages by now, and was so painfully aware of how badly they should be living their normal lives. It hurt him knowing he had to hunt these people down and sacrifice them. It was a terrible fate to be cursed to, but he had little choice in the matter. It was either do as he was told, or face consequences.

Sometimes he risked it; he would miss some swings, not see some survivors, all to try and help them survive. The Entity made it clear how disapproved it was, evidenced by each deep running gash that seemed to heal in a matter of seconds, yet the pain never fully faded. It was always another reminder of what he was expected to do, yet he preferred the pain of scars over the pain of guilt. 

He sat in the midst of the woods, tending to the aches that fresh, invisible wounds gave him. The rules were always the same; he could alleviate his own pain if he inflicted it on others. He hated having to, but sometimes the pain became too unbearable not to obey. With a distorted whine, Philip gently massaged his side. It eased the agony just enough to make another round of punishment bearable. 

Sally was always one drawn to the suffering of others; it was in her nature both before and after arriving in this hell she now called home. The greatest mercy she could bestow was a sweet release of death, and she was always delivering. In the foggy woods, she felt the despair and agony before seeing anything present. All she knew was that it wasn’t a survivor, but she didn’t expect to see Philip huddling in the shadows. If she hadn’t known there was someone in pain, she wouldn’t have seen him at all. 

She didn’t need to say anything for him to know she was wondering. He looked up and signed with his hands; it was the only way he could communicate with anyone. 

‘Punishment. I’ll be okay.’

He tried to be reassuring, but the movement caused intense pain in his arms. Sally tilted her head, delicately floating beside him to place her hand on his shoulder. 

“I don’t wish to see you hurting like this.”

Philip looked around, then settling his gaze back on Sally. 

‘I don’t wish to hurt them. They don’t deserve this fate.’

She sat next to him, skillfully massaging the area that Philip had been. 

“The best we can do for them is to give them a quick death, isn’t it?” 

He slowly shook his head, making Sally tilt her head. 

“What else can we do? The rules here are clear, and it’s the most merciful thing to put them out of their misery.” 

He shook his head more.

‘No, they shouldn’t even be here. I don’t want them to be hurt, especially by my own hands.’

They sat in silence, neither finding the words they wanted to say. Sally moved first, adjusting to hover above the ground and extend her hand to Philip. 

“At least come to me when you’re in pain. I’ll do what I can to help you.” 

Philip took her hand, standing up and pressing his forehead against hers. He nodded in thanks, letting go of her hand. She nodded once, floating off as Philip disappeared into the darkness.


	53. Uneven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight runs into Myers alone in a trial.

Trials were always subjected to the same random rules as most things were. Different people in the trials against different killers in different areas. Generally, it stayed consistently at four survivors against one killer, but every now and then it wasn’t the case. Dwight still had yet to figure out why it was sometimes three, two, or even one person against a murderous lunatic, but he hated it when he wandered into the woods for a trial to find himself back at the campfire. 

Dwight couldn’t help but sigh when he felt distinctly alone this trial; none of the others had shown up with him. That meant less objectives to do, but he only had one chance. If he got caught and couldn’t lose the Killer, he was as good as dead. It was far too likely that if he did get caught, he wouldn’t be able to hide again. 

With a quick, quiet breath, Dwight found the nearest generator and stayed hidden nearby. He didn’t quite know who the Killer was yet, and he didn’t want to start working until they had already checked the area. He kept himself still as a statue, not sure of how much time had passed when he heard the breathing. 

The man in the blue jumpsuit walked right past him. Dwight didn’t dare move; the last thing he needed was the serial killer to spot him. Myers didn’t turn around, and Dwight quietly moved to the opposite wall in case the Killer came back around. He listened carefully for the sound of the other man’s breathing, hearing it on the other side of the wall. _What is he waiting for?_

Dwight couldn’t stop himself from yelping when Myers had turned the corner and stared right at him, the Killer’s free hand immediately grabbing Dwight by his throat. Dwight was held against the wall, struggling to try and get himself free. He had to try, as futile as it was. He watched Michael’s head tilt to the side, his other hand staying at his side. _What is he **waiting** for?!_

Dwight heard the sound of something falling to the ground, then his left arm was held against the wall in Michael’s right hand. The bloody knife was resting in the grass, Dwight being careful not to kick it. He feared whatever might happen next; who knows what the Entity allowed when there was only one survivor in a trial. When Michael’s hand dug into his throat, he couldn’t help the strangled whimper as he tried to free himself. 

Michael simply stared at the Leader. There was something almost _adorable_ about how he squirmed desperately, futilely in an attempt to escape. There were no other survivors; and it was all too easy to find the lone survivor with the power of the dainty, scratched mirror. Regardless of how this ended, he knew the Entity wanted it done quickly. A full trial for a single survivor was a waste. 

Yet part of him didn’t want this to be over so quickly. Michael wanted to enjoy this moment, knowing full well it might not happen again anytime soon with the Leader. Toying with lone, fearful survivors was similar to playing with his rabbit, but also an entirely different experience altogether. 

His grip on Dwight’s neck and arm were released, instead he opted to hold his jaw still. Dwight’s hands were gripping Michael’s arm, trying desperately to loosen the grip. Dwight stood still as Michael’s other hand brushed gently along his cheek. _So small and fragile._ Michael stayed characteristically silent, making tension fall between them like the fog around them. He barely heard the voice of the other. 

“What do you want with me?” 

Michael didn’t blame the other for being terrified. It was a rare occurrence for this to happen; more often than not the Entity didn’t even bother, both survivors and Killer would find themselves in the fog again. Part of his intrigue was due to that same fear, but he couldn’t quite answer the question presented to him. It was a mix of wanting to let him go, and to watch the life bleed from him. 

“Just.. kill me already! Stop torturing me..” 

He appreciated the attempts of defiance. It was much more interesting when a survivor refused to shut down in fear. He ran his fingers through Dwight’s hair, uncaring of the blood staining his fingertips. He felt Dwight tense, but the thought was quickly pushed away at the marvel of how soft his hair was. He only had to reach out to find the handle of his knife; a perk of being in the Entity’s realm was that he could have his favored weapon when he needed. 

Dwight closed his eyes when he saw the knife again, certain now that he was going to be impaled by the kitchen knife. Instead, Michael’s hand around his jaw moved to grab a handful of hair, and Dwight felt the knife cleanly cut some of it off. He cautiously opened his eyes, staring quietly as Michael held the tuft of his hair in his hands. 

Without another word, Michael turned to walk away into the fog that now closed in around them. Dwight let out a breath of relief at having survived, for some reason, but the thought of the Killer known for being absolutely _obsessed_ with survivors taking a tuft of his hair terrified him. He walked back to the campfire, trying to ease himself and stop himself from running his own hand through his now uneven hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to keep consistent in posting drabbles, writing for Freedom, and also having fun with other story ideas/AUs/doing whatever else I want, so hopefully I can stay consistent enough in posting at least one drabble a week! I might, I might not, but that's my goal so far.


	54. Swift Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake is swift under pressure, and Ace is definitely grateful for it.

Jake prided himself on his ability to stay composed in dire situations. Panicking only made matters worse; it allowed for mistakes that would prove fatal. Jake spent too long surviving on his own to fall for such things. He learned how to destroy what belonged to the Killers, whether it was the meathooks, bear traps, or the totems some Killers held dear, Jake always committed himself to destroying it all. 

It was no different when The Pig had entered the scene, and Tapp had explained who was under the mask and what they were capable of. The only part that really caught his attention was Tapp explaining he had messed with the mechanical workings of the reverse bear traps, and it was that specific piece of knowledge Jake wanted to know. It was hard to work on learning that when the only time they ever saw the cruel things were when they were already on someone. 

Jake feared touching the wrong spring while it was on someone; one wrong move and he might be the reason their head is suddenly in two pieces. He was fine with testing it on himself, but he was always unable to actually see what he was doing. He wasn’t going to bet someone’s life on chance. 

That was what bothered him about Ace. The man was all too eager to make a bet that he might not even win, if only for the thrill of the gamble. Even if he refused to leave the man behind in a trial, it was sometimes very tempting to let him deal with the fallout of his actions. This trial, the only thought in his mind was making it out alive. 

Amanda was ruthless, doubly so when a _certain technician_ refused to give a damn about altruism, instead focusing on getting generators running. The ticking of the reverse bear traps was too unsettling to hear, and it made him prefer being alone even more.

The rustling of the bushes behind him made him spin around. This trial wasn’t going too well at all, if he were to say, based on the number of times someone could’ve died to another’s carelessness. With two generators to go, it was a bad sign for two people to be on death’s door. He heard the beeping, then Ace crept out of the reeds of the swamp. 

“What are you doing? Go get it off already.”

He looked panicked and afraid, and Jake didn’t need to be told to know something was wrong. _He can’t because she’s near the box._ He kept his voice in a whisper, hoping that he could find some other solution. 

“That the last one?” 

A slow nod. He took a deep breath, hating that this was left to him. There was little choice, unless he wanted to turn around and leave the trap to go off. 

“Sit and don’t move, and I’ll try to get it off.” 

When Ace sat down on the nearest log, Jake took his gloves off and started fiddling with the mechanisms. They were much more complex than anything he had seen before, even the hooks that the Entity was so determined to protect. _How did Tapp explain it?_ He didn’t have the time to go through and try to recall what the Detective told him. 

The gears were delicately placed over one another, making it hard to find which one was which. _Wait, this one’s loose._ He could loosen the gears and get them off, then he wouldn’t have to bother with the lock.. The trap would be loose enough to slide off. He tried to think back on Tapp’s explanation; this had to be what he was referring to. 

The beeping started getting faster, the light shifting from white to yellow. The pressure mounted as Jake fiddled with the gear, ignoring any pain or discomfort as he tried to get it loose enough. He had started on the smaller one first, perhaps mistakenly so as he nudged it just too far, and the light suddenly turned red. 

Jake could see Ace tensing, his own eyes narrowing in focus. This was _precisely_ what he wanted to avoid, but he had little choice. He got the gear loose enough, then quickly moved to work on the other one. This time, he knew what he was doing. He had to keep calm, even as the light flashed constantly and quickly, signalling the coming gruesome death. 

The gear came loose, and Jake wasted no time in yanking the trap over Ace’s head. It snapped in his hands, and he threw it aside as Ace slumped forward with a distorted cry of pain. 

“Ace? Hey, talk to me.” 

He was still alive, Jake knew that much, but how badly did the trap hurt him? Ace’s right hand was covering his mouth as he stood up to face Jake. 

“I’ll never hear those words again.. Huh?” 

Jake sighed, looking around quickly. 

“We shouldn’t stay, she’ll probably be upset.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

Ace followed close beside Jake, blood covering his mouth and hand. The pain was enough to keep him uncharacteristically silent, rusty metal screws having dug in and nearly torn his jaw apart. After a look around to convince himself the area was safe for now, he turned to Jake when the survivalist started speaking. 

“I am never doing that again if I can help it.” 

Ace simply nodded, keeping his bloody hand over his mouth. Time was of the essence now. The last thing either of them needed was a very angry Amanda coming over and finding them. Jake felt the tug on his jacket, turning to see Ace handing him a key. He had seen the hatch somewhere nearby before, it was a matter of finding it. 

Without warning, Jake had dragged Ace close to the wall of the pantry they were near. Ace looked around, spotting the crouched form of Amanda creeping by. Jake had spotted her easily, the red stood out in the dreariness of the swamp. When she passed into the reeds, Jake guided Ace along, finding the hatch and breathing a sigh of relief as he and Ace jumped into the darkness below. 

Back at the campfire, Jake let himself finally relax. He let out a quiet breath and let his shoulders slump forward. Ace sat next to him, grinning despite the blood around his lips and cheeks. 

“Thanks.” 

Jake shook his head. 

“Don’t thank me. I’m not going to do that again. Go get yourself patched up, then get some rest.”

Ace stood with a nod. 

“Yes sir, Dr. Park.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, laying back and running through the events in his head. He’d have to remember how to do that without risking the lives of the others. It was bound to happen again, as much as he didn’t want to accept it. He was simply glad he was well composed under pressure, able to act swiftly when it counted most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to accept Sabotage in it's current state. Let Jake destroy everything BHVR you cowards!


	55. Happy Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Valentine's Day story!

The Entity was a mysterious being. Most of the time it was an endlessly cruel, sadistic being that set up grand situations of torture and agony, just to watch the survivors crumble. The being was known to enjoy tearing them apart, then giving them temporary relief to do it all again. It played into the Entity’s game, but it was either that or to lose hope entirely, and that was an unacceptable fate. It, too, seemed to be keenly aware, and sometimes intervened to allow them a much-needed break. 

Valentine’s Day was a holiday that the Entity always marvelled at. Countless times it had seen survivors scrounge whatever they manage to give as presents to the one they liked the most. Usually it was the one who they would do everything they could to keep safe. It was fun to watch, and to listen to the screaming and crying when it tore them to pieces. 

It’s knowledge of Valentine’s Day didn’t extend much past the common tradition of presents and kisses, but that would suffice. It carefully crafted pastel pink cards with blood red hearts on them, each having generic sentiments of love and adoration. Names were already signed on them, designated who they were to and who they were from. 

It left them with the survivors belongings, nestled under their loot but obvious enough that the owner would be able to see it. Now it only had to wait. 

Jake spotted the pink paper among his jacket and toolboxes. He took it cautiously first, opening the card and reading it. _My heart blooms with you, Valentine!_ His gaze narrowed on it, flipping the card over to see who it was from. _Claudette?_ He lifted the scarf up around his face to hide his reddening cheeks. It was so damn _cheesy_ , yet he still liked the card. He got up to go find her, and make sure it was actually from her and not a trick from one of the others. 

Claudette noticed the light pink when she was bundling up the many herbs she used for tending to the injuries of others. She tilted her head as she looked over it, flipping it over to the back. _To: Claudette, From: Jake._ She blinked in confusion, _since when did Jake get into Valentine’s Day?_ He showed his affection constantly and quietly. She opened the card, unable to help the blush growing on her face as she read it. _You make my heart soar._

She was about to stand when she heard the bushes rustle and Jake calmly walked towards her, pausing when he saw the pink card in her hands. 

“You got one too?” 

Part of him wanted to snatch it out of her hands and read who it was from. He didn’t enjoy the thought of _someone else_ giving her a card like that. But, he kept himself calm, waiting to hear from her. She stood and rushed over to give him a hug. 

“Yes, thank you! It’s so sweet, Jake!” 

“Wait, what?” 

Jake blinked, making Claudette step back and tilt her head. 

“This is from you. Isn’t it?” 

He took the card from her, flipping it to read the back, then open it and read the message inside. 

“I.. no, I didn’t write this. Did you write this?” 

He handed his card to her for her to read. She shook her head, handing it back delicately. 

“No, I didn’t, but it’s definitely something I would write.” 

Both of them were silent for a few moments, until Jake spoke up. 

“Maybe we should ask the others, and see if one of them wrote the cards.” 

She nodded, following close beside Jake as they walked to the campfire to find the others. Meg and Nea were already talking by the fire, both of them with pink paper in the hands. Meg looked over to Jake when he walked over, pointing at the card. 

“Hey, you too?” 

Jake nodded, Claudette walking over to see the card. 

“Who was yours from?” 

Meg nodded over to Nea. 

“Ours were from each other, but I don’t remember writing anything on pink paper.” 

Jake looked over their cards. Meg’s card had read ‘You’ve got me tagged, Valentine!’ while Nea’s read ‘You make my heart race!’ He handed them back, then looked between them. 

“I thought one of you two would’ve been the ones to write these and put them in everyone’s things.” 

Meg shook her head. 

“I don't play with matters of the heart, Jake. That's just cruel.” 

He looked at the rest of the campfire, trying to see where the others were. David's loud laugh caught his attention, followed by Dwight’s of ‘David, please!’ Ace wasn’t too far away from them, grinning as he held up the pink card in front of a very grumpy Bill. It undoubtedly was none of them; the surprise on their faces wasn’t right. And Ace was simply downright smug about having gotten a card addressed to him from the soldier, regardless if it was faked or not. 

Jake already knew Quentin, Laurie, and Tapp weren’t the type to set up such an elaborate prank. Laurie and Tapp because they would not have it in them to, and only Quentin because Jake knew his handwriting (and it’s illegibility) well. The only one left was Feng, and he found her pouting beside a tiredly gleeful Quentin. 

“Come on Feng, it’s really cute!” 

“It’s also a forgery and I hate it.” 

_Scratch that, then._ Tapp walked up to the group gathering, arms crossed. 

“So, none of us have any clue where these cards came from?” 

Several people shook their heads, and Tapp quietly darted his eyes between them. 

“All I can think of is that the Entity’s behind it.” 

It made sense, if none of the survivors were the cause. Getting clean, pink paper and well-written messages would have been a rarity anyway. Meg just shrugged with a grin. 

“Might as well make the most of it then, right?” 

With a grin, Meg wrapped her arms around Nea’s neck and gave her a kiss. Nea was at first surprised, but gladly wrapped her arms around Meg’s waist. It didn’t take long for the two to seem to completely forget the others were even there. 

David turned to Dwight, wrapping one arm around his waist and the around his back to run his fingers through Dwight’s hair at the back of his head as they kissed. David was always well aware of the others nearby, but simply couldn't be bothered to put on any act for their sake. He spoke the truth and acted on his feelings, and liked to brag, relationship included. 

The glare from Bill to Ace was all Jake needed to see know how _that_ was going. 

“W-well.. It is close to Valentine's Day, and it's nice to be able to relax a bit.” 

Jake turned his attention to Claudette. She was looking at the others with a small smile on her face. Jake followed her gaze around, noticing Feng, Quentin, and Laurie on the side. He turned back to Claudette when she let out a relaxed sigh. 

“..Would you like a kiss?” 

She was surprised by Jake's question, but didn't take long to nod her head. Jake gently wrapped his arms around her back, happy to hold her so closely. He gave her a quick kiss, keeping an arm wrapped around her when he turned back, just in time to see Feng rolling her eyes. 

“I don’t get why one day out of the year is specifically for stuff like this.”

“It’s cute, Feng!”

Quentin laughed, while Feng only groaned. 

“It makes no sense.” 

“It doesn’t have to make sense to enjoy it!” 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, more playful than intimate. Jake turned back to Claudette, guiding her out of the gathering and into the woods for privacy as he left the others to do what they wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope everyone is having a good day, or if not I can help make it a little bit better with some cuteness. Even if I didn't write all the cards out, I had some ideas on what they all would've been!
> 
> Dwight: You must be a locker, because I want to be in you, Valentine! (What David was laughing at)  
> Jake: You make my heart soar.  
> Meg: You make my heart race!  
> Claudette: My heart blooms with you, Valentine!  
> Nea: You've got me tagged, Valentine!  
> Laurie: You decisively strike my heart.  
> Ace: You're the King of (my) Hearts, Valentine!  
> Feng: You can be the captain of my heart.  
> Bill: I'd fight a thousand battles for you, Valentine!  
> David: I'll make you a King, Valentine!  
> Quentin: I'll always keep a Vigil for you, Valentine!  
> Tapp: Nothing will stop me from showing I care, Valentine!


	56. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Myers Family Sleepover!

Michael only had vague ideas of what typical pastimes were. He was well aware that his were.. unusual. While in trials, that served him well. But, outside of them, he struggled to find things to do now and then. It was why he had been working on setting up a sleepover for Laurie. 

He had known from watching her that she enjoyed sleepovers, and undoubtedly greatly misses the opportunity. While he didn't want any of the other survivors present, the time to relax should ease the loneliness of the Entity’s realms. That was his goal, at least. 

He quietly wandered the forest around the familiar home, knowing if he kept walking he would find what he was looking for. He had to stay a fair distance from the light of the campfire, but Laurie always knew when he was around. 

He made sure to stay out of sight from the campfire, but he knew he was getting closer. The bushes rustled, and he turned his attention to Laurie as she crept out. 

“What are you doing here?” 

She was still cautious, and he couldn't blame her for it. In trials, any sense of attachment was thrown out the window, and it was a return to silent, stalking Michael that Laurie had grown used to. He motioned her to follow, then walked deeper into the woods. 

At first, Laurie didn't want to follow him. Doing so had always been a bad decision before, he was trying to kill her consistently, but still she wandered into the woods after him. It was a small comfort whenever he took the plain white mask off and allowed his face to be seen. She could react better if she could see his face first. 

The familiar house came into view, and Laurie couldn't help but wonder what he had wanted to show her. He opened the door and let her walk in first, and Laurie was stunned at what she saw. 

A literal _mountain_ of pillows and blankets were strewn around. She looked over to him as he closed the door behind them. 

“Did you set up a sleepover party?” 

He nodded, watching as Laurie looked between all of the blankets he had brought out. She slowly walked close to it, running her hands over the fabric. They were soft, fuzzy blankets intended to be comfortable. 

Suddenly she jumped into the blanket mound, Michael running over as she disappeared into the blankets. She started laughing as she looked up from the valley she made. 

“I'm fine, blankets aren't going to kill me.” 

She laughed, working her way out of the blankets to grab a pillow. 

“We are definitely making a pillow fort.” 

She handed several pillows to Michael, who held them tightly in his hands. She gathered a semi-organized pile, up until she felt the impact of a pillow at the back of her head. She turned, finding Michael ready to throw another pillow with a small grin. 

There was silence between them, neither moving for several seconds. Laurie grabbed a pillow as Michael threw his, running towards him to smack him. 

The Myers siblings played rough, hitting each other with the pillows as hard as they could and aimed for the face. They fought for over half an hour, neither willing to accept defeat. They only stopped when they had torn most of the pillows to pieces, feathers and fabric littering the floor. 

Laurie stood with a tattered pillow, catching her breath. She looked around at the mess, breaking into loud laughter. _So much for a pillow fort now._ Michael smiled at Laurie’s joy. It was something he was well aware was scarce in this place. 

He moved to adjust the blankets around the furniture, moving end tables and chairs to hold them up. The couch was at the center, using the small, untouched pillows on the cushions to hold up the blankets. He and Laurie made a proper tent of blankets, using the rest to pad the floor in front of the couch. 

It didn't take long for drowsiness to set in under the warmth of the fort. She yawned, wrapping a blanket around herself. Michael wrapped one around himself, watching silently. 

“I'm not tired.” 

Laurie definitely sounded tired, hours already having passed. She closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep where she sat despite her affirmation that she wasn’t yet tired. Michael lifted her onto the couch, leaning against the couch and drifting off to sleep himself.


	57. Home Remedies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight gets sick, David takes care of him.

David never got sick. Even with his typical lifestyle habits, he never found himself bedridden for long. His mother was always adept at noticing when her children were the slightest bit unwell, and made sure to take care of it immediately. He rarely paid attention to specifics, just that they worked and he never had to take more than a single day off from anything. In the Entity’s realm, being sick simply wasn’t a thing that existed. 

Or so he thought, until he came back from a trial and noticed someone missing. There were several supposed to be here and not at a trial, so where was Dwight? The form that moved ever so slightly, and David quickly realized it was the Leader curled up in a ball beside the fire. 

“Oi, Dwight, you okay?” 

He groaned, coughing weakly afterwards. He shook his head as much as he could, without worsening the headache he already felt. David moved to sit beside Dwight and scoop him into his arms. 

Dwight whined so softly that David almost didn’t hear it. He did, however, feel the intense heat coming from his forehead. Dwight trembled in David’s arms with his eyes shut. 

“Hey, easy, I’m here.” 

Dwight whined again, every muscle in his body aching. He hadn't noticed when he first started getting sick, and was now too sick to even move. He was just glad he hadn’t been dragged out to any trials in the meantime. That didn’t alleviate the terrible nausea, or the headache, or the general unwillingness to move. His throat was intensely sore, and each cough made it worse. 

Dwight coughed again, feeling the agonizing pain in his throat as a result. David’s forehead pressed against Dwight’s. 

“I’m ‘ere, don’t worry.” 

David thought back on what his mother always did for him. Warm blankets, a cool towel to the forehead, warm mug of tea.. Those would be hard to manage. He wrapped his jacket around Dwight, massaging his side. David glanced around at the campfire, cursing under his breath when he didn't spot Claudette. There had to be something he could do in the meantime. 

Dwight seemed so small in his jacket, emphasized by how he curled so tightly in on himself. It made David want nothing more than to keep him safe from everything in the world, to brutalize anything that tried. Dwight shifted slightly, weakly grabbing at David's shirt. David held him tighter, trying to think of anything to alleviate Dwight’s suffering. 

David reached for the nearest medkit as an idea came to mind. Making sure not to move Dwight too much, he grabbed the cool sponge and pressed it to Dwight’s forehead. He leaned back against a log, allowing himself and Dwight to lay back and relax more. 

Dwight was still burning up, and the inability to help much was starting to annoy him. The kit held some herbs that he couldn't recognize and that Claudette had undoubtedly added. Most plants could be ground up and made into a paste to help heal, maybe these were the same? He grabbed them and the small mortar and pestle to get to work. 

 

Claudette quietly walked back from a particularly nerve wracking trial. The Huntress had always known the rough area she was in. The humming had stuck in her ears even as she jumped into the hatch. She was relieved to be out of the trial, at the very least. 

She sighed as she entered the light of the campfire, pausing when she noticed Dwight wrapped up in David's jacket and David wiping a a light green paste on Dwight’s face. She quickly jogged towards them, dropping the flashlight she had brought back. 

“David, what are you doing?”

He paused and looked over, looking as if he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar before dinner. 

“Dwight’s real sick, I’m helpin’ ‘im get better.” 

She couldn’t fault the effort, but she also couldn’t help the sigh as she kneeled next to him and grabbed the sponge. 

“You’re not supposed to grind those herbs up.” 

She wiped off the paste, grabbing a different bundle from her small bag and handing them to David. 

“Have him eat these, and they’ll reduce a lot of the congestion.” 

David nodded once, giving a wide grin. 

“Thanks, Claud.” 

She stood, brushing herself off and grabbing a rag from the medkit. 

“Yeah, of course. I’m gonna go soak this and be right back.” 

“You’re the best, Claud!”

She shook her head with a smile, turning to walk off to the nearest lake. David stayed next to Dwight, running his hand over Dwight’s forehead and hair. The Leader seemed more at ease now in the oversized jacket laying next to David. He dozed off before Claudette got back, and neither Claudette or David were going to disturb his precious rest. David wrapped his arms around Dwight, holding him to his chest as he drifted off to sleep, too.


	58. Through Will Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ParkSmith request in which Jake protects Quen from a Leatherface chainsaw.

Jake hated the places that resembled neighborhoods rather than forests. Badham and Lampkin had obvious evidence of terrible struggles, and Jake knew both Laurie and Quentin had nearly lost their lives there. Both of them could take care of themselves, but Jake knew he had a soft spot for the Insomniac. Seeing him hurt by the hands of any Killer was always one time too many. 

Being on Lampkin Lane was awful; there were too many places where someone could get stuck with no way out in a boarded room. That made him nervous, but he wasn’t about to show it. He heard the sound of the chainsaw while he worked on a generator. Distant enough to not hear the pounding heartbeat that indicated the Killer’s presence, but still close enough to tell it was Leatherface; the Killer that liked to wear their skin as a mask. 

He kept working on the generator, despite hating the idea that someone was being chased by the Killer. But it was too important to wait on generators, they had to be done or else everyone would die. He had just gotten it done when he heard Quentin’s cry of pain. Two other generators lit up shortly after he had gotten his done, which was a good sign overall. Quentin was good at keeping Leatherface busy, and the others could work on getting out. 

Even still, Jake ran towards the sound of Quentin’s scream. He was not about to let the Insomniac die today, or any day if he could help it. His heart started racing, and he looked around constantly for the yellow apron. He saw the briefest glimpse of it heading into the Strode house. 

He chased after them, his heart feeling like it would burst out of his chest. He ran up the stairs as he heard Quentin shout. 

“FUCK OFF!” 

Jake raced up the stairs, spotting Leatherface in a doorway and Quentin inside the small room that had all it's windows boarded up. Leatherface revved his chainsaw and lifted it over his head, all too ready to swing it around and hit Quentin with it. Without thinking, Jake sprinted at the Killer and jumped onto him, his right hand reaching to grab the chainsaw. 

“JAKE!” 

Quentin shouted as the chainsaw fully revved, and the sudden weight on his back made Leatherface flail backwards. The chainsaw tore into Jake’s hand and scraped up along his forearm. It cut deep into his hand and arm, making him scream loudly in pain and his eyes widen as he was thrown aside and over the guardrail to the first floor. 

He struggled to his feet despite the screaming pain, hearing Quentin leap down the steps to run to him. 

“Jake, come on!” 

The other two generators were already done, probably through the use of shining, pristine parts that were brand new. Jake ran beside Quentin, always looking over his shoulder to make sure Leatherface was far enough away. 

His arm bled badly, leaving a consistent trail rather than the splotches of blood he was used to seeing. The pain was almost unbearable. Still, Jake kept himself running through a sheer determination and willpower to escape. He couldn't die now, not when he was still needed. Leatherface grew closer as Quentin led Jake to one of the gates that Quentin always had a knack for seeing. 

The chainsaw revved behind them, and Quentin pushed Jake forward out of the way. Quentin narrowly avoided the chainsaw, as Leatherface smacked into a fence and swung it even more wildly. Quentin turned back to grab Jake's arm and run for the now open gate. 

“Come on, let's go!”

Jake's head was starting to spin. His arm bled so badly that he could barely even feel it. With Quentin holding onto his left arm, Jake was more or less dragged out of the gate and lead back to the campfire. Quentin guided him to the fire, grabbing a medkit. 

“God, Jake, what were you thinking?” 

Jake tilted his head. _Wasn't that obvious?_

“Protecting you.” 

He still was out of breath, and he could barely focus his attention on Quentin. He felt fabric wrap tight around his arm. 

“I was going to be fine. But, thanks for the help. Just, don't grab a chainsaw again like that.” 

Jake shrugged slightly, Quentins grip firm on his arm. The bandage was wrapped tight, primarily to stop the bleeding before it got worse and Jake passed out. Everything was starting to ache as the adrenaline wore off. Jake lay back, letting himself fall limp onto the grass. Everything hurt too much, and his head spun too much to keep himself alert. 

Quentin made sure the bleeding stopped, always looking over to Jake’s face to try and read his expression and see if he was especially pained. The survivalist was always extremely controlled about expressing his pain, and part of Quentin hated it for not being able to tell when Jake needed his help the most. It would do for now; Jake needed his rest now. Quentin took a deep breath, adjusting to sit next to Jake and keep a weary vigil for any danger.


	59. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My part of an art trade, a story in which Evan teaches Philip a lesson.

Evan knew he had a bad temper. He typically kept himself controlled, fulfilling the duties that the Boss needed him to do. But even still, the survivors tended to make him so angry, he couldn’t wait to see them sacrificed. The bloodlust for it made him move faster, and it was a well-regarded skill he possessed. It was rare for him to lose his temper with other Killers; he didn’t dare do anything to disturb or disrupt the way that the Boss worked. 

Yet, he couldn’t help himself. He wondered _why_ someone so soft like Philip would be a Killer. He did the bare minimum, always making others pick up the slack. And even worse, he would take _pity_ on the survivors, and sometimes let them escape or otherwise help them whenever he could. It was a waste of time, and not part of their job. They were Killers, and the sloppy work ethic from Philip never failed to get on his nerves. 

The whispering of the Entity was present in his ear, a certain indication that the Boss needed him for something. Evan valued his own diligence, and took pride in any task he was given. He might not like it, but this was how his life was, and he’d be damned if he slacked in anything. 

The Boss told him what he had to do. _Straighten Philip out._ Those words were all that needed to be said for him to gain a grin as wide as the mask he wore. The specifics of such an order didn’t need to be told to him. Anything was viable, so long as it achieved its goal. Evan Macmillan did not tolerate _failure._

He was guided by the constant whispers of the Entity, telling him where he needed to go. He almost missed the shimmer that told him Philip was cloaked in front of him. 

“Philip.” 

He watched the shimmer turn, and heard the distinct ringing bell as he uncloaked. The way that Philip stood and stared at him told him that there was going to be a conflict. Philip’s voice was more of a whisper, one that emanated whenever he silently signed with his hands. 

“No. I’m not going to listen.” 

The determination he saw in Philip was impressive, but Evan was not a man who backed down so easily. His grip around his blade tightened. 

“You don’t get a choice.” 

The threat didn’t need to be uttered. Both were keenly aware that if the orders of the Boss weren’t followed, there would be punishment. Evan stepped closer, almost proud of the refusal on Philip’s part to move. 

“I’m making my own.” 

The words echoed around him like a breeze blowing past. The much louder, strangely clear whispers from the Entity echoed like thunder. 

“Make him obey.” 

With a wide grin, Evan stepped forward. He watched as the skull and spine was raised towards him, then was gone in the next instant. The jagged cleaver came down on Philip’s arm, sinking deep into the distorted, bark-like flesh. The message was clear to Philip; either obey, or be punished. 

Even still, Philip refused to give in. Or couldn’t, but Evan didn’t care for the specifics. Philip’s flailing made discolored, shimmering blood spray everywhere. The cleaver came down again and again and again, each time Evan marvelled at the injuries he was causing. The blade tore apart Philip’s arms, chest, face, neck, and wherever was most convenient to slam the blade into. 

He took a small step back as Philip curled into a ball on the ground, trying to shield himself from further blows. It was incredibly unbecoming of a Killer to be brought so low. Yet, it was also incredibly satisfying. He saw the motions of Philip signing, but the whisper from it was absent. The Boss didn’t want any mercy, and the notion made Evan grin wider. 

It felt _wonderful_ to take out his aggressions out. Philip would get over the pain of this punishment, there was nothing personal about this. Boss’ orders were Boss’ orders, after all. The urge rose in him, knowing full well that the Entity was pushing him to continue. He landed blow after blow on Philip’s back and side, watching golden blood pool underneath him. 

The garbled noises coming from Philip were the only indication that he was in whining in pain. The Entity’s whispers grew more frantic and feverish, pushing him onward to swing again and again. His blade was entirely coated in gold by the time the manic voice faded from his hearing. 

He took deep breaths, staring down at Philip’s motionless form. Evan wiped his blade off on his arm, turning to walk away. His part of the job was done; it was up to Philip now to learn. 

 

Philip had no idea how long he stayed curled up in pain, bleeding from so many cuts he couldn’t keep count. He had begged for mercy, for Evan to stop, but the signing fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t allowed to fight back, to be given any mercy, and felt the sharp, intense pain from every strike. He stayed curled in a ball, fearing that any movement would elicit another strike. 

Hours had passed by the time Philip painfully moved, struggling to his feet. He didn’t need to hear the Entity’s whispering to know what it would say to him. To obey, to kill, and to sacrifice were expectations for every Killer, but that would never mean he would want to. He was glad to have his bell back, to allow him to hide in the shadows. Even sitting still, his blood shimmered brightly in the flickering lights around him. 

The skull’s blade was dulled, useless for anything but as a blunt weapon. He knew he would be left to think about his choices in this realm, and how truly powerless he was. He crawled to the nearest tree to help him stand, stumbling into the woods to hide as best as he could from Killers and Survivors alike. When the time came to be called into a trial, he would have to obey.


	60. Rose In the Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David keeps getting hurt and driving Claudette crazy.

This trial already wasn’t going well. One person was already gone, and the other two were close to death’s door. The Killer hadn’t even ignored him either, and David was bloodier than he could recall ever being. It took several sacrifices for them to even get one generator done, and by the time the second was done, it was only David left. Finding the hatch in the nick of time was a bitter victory; he was alive, but the others had been sacrificed to the Entity that David wanted to see destroyed and in pieces. 

He slowly walked back to the campfire, cuts and bruises making every motion painful. He was angry at the Killer, the Entity, _himself_ for this trial. He should've been faster. 

With a groan, he sat next to the fire. It didn't take long at all for Claudette to notice, rushing over with bandages and a full medkit in her hands. He waved her away. 

“Check th’others first. I'm fine.” 

She ignored him, sitting down and pulling supplies out of the kit. 

“Oi, I said I'm fine!” 

“No, you’re not. You’re bleeding, bruised, and in no condition to help anybody. Now let me help you.” 

The stern tone of Claudette’s voice caught him off guard. He sat still, allowing her to clean around wounds and apply the right treatments where needed. She bandaged up his arm and shoulder, sighing quietly. 

“Sorry, I’m not angry, just.. Concerned.” 

David just laughed and shook his head, giving Claudette a light pat on the shoulder. 

“Can’t blame ya. Just didn’t expect t’hear ya so stern. Not a bad thing, though. Don’t wanna let everyone else just push you around, aye?” 

Claudette nodded, sitting back and sighing again. 

“Then, can I be honest with you?” 

David tilted his head slightly, shrugging. 

“Let loose.” 

“I think you can be really stupid for a man who has been in so many fights before. You refuse to let us heal you sometimes and you always risk yourself for everyone else, no matter how much it hurts you. You push yourself farther than you should but you keep _doing it_ no matter how many times we tell you to take it easy. You can’t help anybody if you’re constantly going on a hook or so beaten that you can’t stand up anymore, and it worries me a lot. I appreciate you going out of your way to do that for us, but please don’t if it means you’ll end up dying.” 

Claudette took a deep breath when she finished speaking. David sat in silence for several moments, then loosely wrapped an arm around Claudette’s shoulders. 

“I appreciate you worryin’, I really do. But I’m not about to walk out of a trial if I don’t think I’ve done everythin’ I can to make sure everyone else makes it. Takin’ a beating is fine by me if it means everyone else is okay.” 

“At least let me take care of you, then!” 

She leaned forward to wrap her arms around him in a hug. 

“That’s all I’m asking. Let me help you.” 

David kept his bandaged arm around her shoulders, massaging gently. 

“Alright, I promise I will. Just don’t worry yourself too much, yeah?” 

“I will when you aren’t still bleeding.” 

She grabbed the medkit and got back to work treating David’s injuries. He didn’t move from where he sat, letting Claudette gently inspect every cut and bruise. He was glad now to have the tattoo of the rose on the back of his neck; it was a constant reminder to him that were plenty of roses among thorns, and how wonderful they could be.


	61. Shining Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight and Jake team up for some flashlight heroics.

Dwight hated the trials where not everyone made it into the actual trial to begin with. Sometimes the others were lost in the fog and the trial started with less than four people. Jake and Claudette weren’t far from him in the Wrecker’s Yard, but their fourth was nowhere to be seen. Both Dwight and Jake had brought well-equipped flashlights, ready to blind whoever the Killer was. Claudette was working on a generator in the distance, but still close enough for Dwight to see her. 

The good news about being down one person is that they only needed four generators instead of five. The bad news, however, was that it was one less person to help if someone had to be saved. He and Jake worked in a familiar silence on a generator, only shifting his focus when it was finished and he heard Claudette’s scream. 

He immediately started heading towards it, stopping when he felt Jake’s hand on his arm. He nodded his head over to the generator Claudette had been working on. He jogged over to it to start working quickly, keeping his attention between the generator and where Claudette ran. When the generator lit up, Dwight immediately ran over to where he saw Claudette’s aura.

She screamed as she hit the ground, and Dwight neared when the Hillbilly picked her up. Even with the Hillbilly’s natural resistance to the light, Dwight’s flashlight shined bright in his eyes and made him drop her. The Hillbilly groaned as Claudette took off running, Jake running up to Dwight’s side and pushing him towards Claudette.

Dwight didn’t need to be told twice to understand what he meant. He ran over to help Claudette, looking over his shoulder as he left Jake to handle the Killer. Claudette nodded in thanks, Dwight looking over again as Jake took a hit from the hammer. The Hillbilly then turned his attention over to him and Claudette. 

“Go, we’ll take care of it!” 

Claudette ran off to work on a generator, leaving Dwight to take the hit from the hammer. He shouted in pain, running to the nearest pallet nestled between wrecked cars and debris. He slammed the pallet down just as the Hillbilly backed away from it, just enough to avoid being hit by it. The chainsaw tore through the wood, and Dwight ran around the crates and metal. 

The chainsaw narrowly missed Dwight, but the short sprint left the Hillbilly too close for comfort. The hammer connected with his back, making him cry in pain as he stumbled forward and fell to the ground. Jake sprinted out of the bushes just as Dwight was getting picked up, satisfied with the growl as the flashlight shined brightly in the Killer’s eyes. 

Dwight stumbled as he was dropped, running off again as the Hillbilly’s focus changed back to Jake. He was grateful that Claudette had taught him how to patch himself up without needing any medkit or help from someone else. He had to get back to Jake and help him. 

When he finished treating himself, he ran back over to the Hillbilly, where Jake had been hit. Claudette dutifully worked on generators, getting another one up by the time Jake fell to the ground. He shined the light in the Hillbilly’s eyes again, Jake managing to free himself from the tight grip.

The hammer connected with Dwight’s shoulder, hurting like hell, but it was well worth it if it meant Jake wouldn’t feel the pain of a hook through his chest. The Hillbilly growled as his vision returned, turning to chase after Dwight. He ran around the Killer shack, making sure to keep the pallet there standing as long as possible. 

He leaped out of the window and stayed close to the wall, pressing himself against it to avoid being seen. Jake had more than enough time to patch himself up. The Hillbilly came after him again, but quickly shifted his attention back to Jake when the saboteur came close and made himself obvious. 

The last generator was powered as Jake was hit by a chainsaw in the back. He cried in pain, this time Dwight was too far to help him off the Hillbilly’s shoulder. The hook was near the gate, and Dwight had to hope the Hillbilly moved far enough to let him use the trick Bill taught him. 

The Hillbilly looked around after hooking Jake, undoubtedly aware that Dwight was somewhere nearby. The Hillbilly moved just a bit too far, turning around just as Dwight got Jake off the hook. 

“Come on, let’s go!” 

The gate was already opened by Claudette, who ran out as Jake was hit and sprinted towards the gate. The gap between the bricks was narrow enough for Dwight to block the Hillbilly. 

“You’re not chasing him!” 

The Hillbilly tried to move around Dwight, settling for a smack across his face when he couldn’t. Dwight took off running towards the gate, his cheek bruised and bloody. Dwight was the last one out of the trial, running until he made it to the campfire. 

“Dwight. What was that?” 

Jake stood with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed at Dwight. 

“What? I was protecting you!”

Jake sighed, looking away. 

“I would’ve been fine. Are you okay?”

Dwight rubbed his cheek, nodding once. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Not the worst thing ever. We make a pretty good team, you know.” 

Jake smiled, waving Dwight over to the campfire. 

“Yeah, yeah we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a game I had, and I dubbed the Jake and Dwight "The Flashlight Fuck Squad" and they loved it. I never saw that Claudette for the rest of the match. Also, I apologize for the weird, sporadic posting times, work/school leaves me little time, and I tend to either play games or write for my DbD OC. I promise I'm still keen on updating this!


	62. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sequel to the "Ace gets shocked by the Doctor and David saves him" stories!

David knew Ace well by now, and how the gambler liked a sense of control of situations. It sometimes struck him as odd; gambling and relying on luck seemed to be the furthest thing from that. Yet, Ace did always tend to have Luck's favor, and come out on top. He relied on that and himself, usually, despite now being on a team for survival. Ace was reliable in strange ways, and was a man that valued his personal space too. So long as he was actively helping the others, David was alright with Ace spending time alone, even if David wanted to be close. 

In trials, all bets were off. David made sure the others got out alive, and if he had to drag someone kicking and screaming to the gate, he would. On Lery’s, that was certainly no different. The place was a maze, and he’d be damned if he’d leave anyone in it. Certainly not Ace against the Doctor. 

David wasn’t quite sure why the Doctor focused on Ace so much. What made him enjoy torturing Ace so much more than the others? David found it hard to believe it was simply a matter of that ever present grin on his face. That was always a thought he worried about later; the safety of the others was his top priority. 

Laurie and Tapp stuck close together, while Tapp occasionally snuck close to the Doctor. With Laurie’s ability to find the Killer and Tapp’s ability to find the generators and other key things, they made an effective team. David liked to keep the Killer busy, while Ace tended to find the nicer things from chests and hand them to the others who could use them effectively. When the Doctor decided to chase someone else and David needed to be patched up, he'd make sure to do so quickly. 

They had 3 generators done with David being patched up by Laurie when they heard Ace's scream. It was _loud_ , and sent a chill up their spines. Laurie quickly tied the bandages, not able to say anything before David ran towards the source of the sound. Ace screamed louder, and David could hear his voice starting to strain. He ran as fast as he could towards the theatre itself. 

 

Ace struggled to catch his breath as he lay on the metal grate in the center of the theatre. The spiked mace smacking into his flesh still wasn’t a feeling he was used to, and likely wouldn’t ever fully acclimate to. The Doctor had dragged him after sending electricity through his body and delivering a hard blow to his back. His fingers had looped through the holes in the grate below him, holding onto anything to try and distract himself from the pain. 

The intense shocks made him scream in pain, the metal underneath conducting it further. He screamed at the top of his lungs, clinging to the grate. He _hated_ the Doctor. Every match against him meant the Doctor would try his hardest to hunt Ace down. Each time he always heard the same whispering in his ears, trying to urge him to just give in. 

Each time, he refused it. There would be no giving up for Ace; it wasn’t in his nature to accept someone else’s ultimatum. His denial always got him the same treatment: torture by electrocution. It didn't happen often, but the few times it did were painful enough. 

He was limp on the ground by the time the shock faded. His muscles twitched involuntarily, falling limply when the Doctor picked him up by his neck. He weakly gasped when the mace impaled through his stomach. His eyes widened, staring at the Doctor in shock. The electrical jolt from the mace made him scream and convulse, despite the overall weakness. He collapsed to the ground when the mace was removed, eyes shut as he fell on his side and grabbed the grate in his convulsions. 

The Doctor rubbed his hands together electricity crackling between them. Ace kept his eyes closed as he listened to the Doctor laugh. He braced himself for another surge, yet one never came. Instead, he heard the Doctor groan and strangely laugh in pain, then felt someone pick him up bridal-style and start running. His head hung back; he couldn’t find any strength to lift it. His muscles still twitched from the electrical “therapy”, the convulsions less painful but still uncomfortable and unsettling. 

He knew well he’d have burns again from the intensity of the Doctor’s shocks. _Was being sacrificed better, to avoid the lasting pain of the burns?_ Whoever was carrying him certainly wasn't going to let that happen. The pounding heartbeat faded; the Doctor had to be distracted with somebody else. Ace hasn't even noticed the last two generators getting fully repaired. Even as far away from the Doctor as he was, Ace still felt the pain of the electrocution. 

The exit gate was opened, and nearly immediately he was hearing the familiar heartbeat again. He heard a man's scream, then felt the cool air of the fog. Everyone else were more than likely doing better than he was. He was set down by the crackling fire, well aware of his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. He felt a hard pressure on his stomach that made him wince. He blinked his eyes open, seeing David kneeling over him with his bloodied hands pressing on the open wound on his own stomach. Even with someone he cared about, Ace hated being at someone else's complete mercy. 

He saw David's attention dart elsewhere and shout something lost on his ears as blood loss started to make him lightheaded. It didn't take long for Claudette to rush over with a medkit, deep concern obvious on her face. Her touch was gentle and soft, but even that was too much for his liking. He couldn't properly squirm, only making a pathetic whine. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his stomach, already working to help heal the wound. 

This time David's hand was at the side of his face. _Why can't they just leave me be now?_ He whined again, shifting in place and hoping David would stop pestering him. 

“Oi, quit squirming. You'll tear the bandages.”

Ace focused on his deep breaths. He knew he was going to be fine, but it still hurt unlike anything else. He could feel his muscles still twitching from the electricity. 

“I’ll… I’ll be fine.” 

He winced when David wrapped his arms around him. 

“Don’t.” 

Just as quickly as he said it, he was gently set back down. 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

David sat next to him, obviously wanting to do more to help. Ace struggled to nod. 

“Yeah. Just, need to rest.” 

David nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on Ace before turning to look around the campfire. David leaned against the log, giving a shake of his head every time someone came over to try and help. It was clear to the Scrapper that Ace didn’t want to be touched, and he was going to make sure no one did. Ace grinned as he started drifting off, interlocking his fingers with David’s as he finally fell asleep.


	63. Only One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myers doesn't share his obsessions, David tries everything he can to protect Dwight.

Michael Myers did not like interruptions or annoyances, yet there were always some survivors that got in his way so often. David King was one such survivor that had quickly rose to the top of his list of annoying _pests_. Too often had the scrapper gotten between him and his obsession, both literally and figuratively by either getting in front of him or shining a flashlight’s bright light in his eyes. It filled him with rage and the overwhelming desire to plunge his knife deep into the scrapper’s stomach and chest, to keep pressing the blade forward until it made a clean cut through the survivor. 

The satisfaction was always so short lived; the scrapper never learned his lesson. He always kept him from the prize Michael every trial, each time his obsession escaping untouched. He resolved to change that as he offered the tombstone into the fog, followed by the black tuft of hair he kept so delicately since he had taken it.

The indecipherable, garbled whispering in his ears sounded pleased, and promised he would be able to have his revenge on the scrapper and encounter the leader he found himself obsessed with. 

 

Dwight always took great care in staying hidden when he found himself in a trial against Michael. He was terrified of another encounter, last time resulting in his hair being cut and taken. It didn’t take David long to notice, with the scrapper’s penchant for running his fingers through Dwight’s hair. Dwight couldn’t blame David for being upset, or for being fiercely protective of him even when the Killer wasn’t Myers. It was always appreciated, and Dwight showed his thanks by doing everything he could to make sure they all got out of the trials alive. 

The neatly lined houses along Lampkin Lane made him nervous. It wasn’t a guarantee that he’d be against Myers again, but the possibility was greater in the neighborhood that he learned had been where his initial murdering spree took place. He took a deep breath, looking around for the auras of the other survivors. It was a relief to see the familiar silhouette of David behind a hedge. 

“David, over here.” 

He crept around the hedge as David walked past, catching his attention before he walked too far away. The scrapper eased at the sight of the leader. 

“Stay near me, yea? I'll keep th’fucker offa ya.” 

Dwight nodded, cautiously leading just a step in front of David. The duo found a generator and got to work, keeping a vigilant eye out for any sign of who the Killer might be. A generator powered on, undoubtedly with the help of a brand new part. With Dwight’s leadership, it didn't take them long to get their generator running. The sudden chill that ran up their spine was a tell-tale sign that Myers was indeed the Killer. They looked around, finding a small relief in not spotting him. Dwight felt David’s hand grab his arm tightly, yet Dwight knew there was concern behind it. Without fail, Myers was always obsessed with Dwight whenever they were in a trial against each other. 

David turned sharply to head into the nearest house, walking up the stairs silently to the generator in the side room. Dwight looked around the room nervously, noting that both windows were boarded up. 

“This is a bad idea.” 

Dwight kept his voice quiet, even as he kneeled to work on the generator. David darted his attention between the doors, positioning himself to see both of them. 

“If ‘e shows, I’ll keep ‘im busy and you can get the fuck outta here.” 

Dwight nodded once, eased by the promise from David. The silence was starting to be extremely unsettling. Dwight froze when he heard footsteps heading up the stairs, yet looking in that direction revealed no aura. He looked over to David, pulling his hands back from the generator. Dwight reached over to get David’s attention, David looking over and dragging Dwight behind him just as the knife swung through the air. 

Dwight yelped, looking over his shoulder to see Michael raise his knife into the air. It was his turn to drag David out of the room and down the stairs. 

“We need to run, let’s go!” 

Michael was close on their heels, David making sure to stay between Dwight and Michael. Michael felt that familiar rage start to build, trying to get around the scrapper to get to his prize. Dwight kept running out of the house and down the street, looking for the nearest pallet. He saw the red stain on the ground around him, feeling himself pushed out of the way and hearing David cry in pain. 

He kept running, knowing full well David would chew him out for staying behind. Michael picked David up over his shoulder and walked to the nearest hook, quickly walking away to track down his goal. 

David screamed in pain as the hook tore through his shoulder. He winced and looked around, spotting the auras of Bill and Nea far in the distance. _Too far to help me off this thing before that fucker gets Dwight_. He winced, reaching up to the hook to try and free himself. At the first failure, he groaned, shaking his head and trying again with no success. He knew he was accelerating his death, but he had to take the chance to try and save Dwight. 

He closed his eyes as he tried again, his last chance at getting himself free. He managed to swing himself off the hook and stumble to the ground, shaking his head as he recollected himself. He’d patch up his shoulder later, for now his main concern was finding Myers and keeping him busy. 

Myers could tell that David had gotten off the hook, even though the last he had seen of either the soldier or the sneak had been across the street. The fact that the scrapper had been lucky enough to pull himself off enraged him; he would _not be denied again_. He knew he was on his obsession’s trail, but he had yet to exactly pinpoint his location. He walked into the nearest house, walking up to the roof to look over obstacles that normally got in the way. 

He spotted the scrapper, running with a direct determination around the hedge. At first, he wanted nothing more than to sink the blade into him again, but he waited. Where his prize went, the scrapper was sure to follow. He watched the injured man look around, visibly relaxing when Dwight emerged from the shed. Michael wasted no time in jumping down from the roof, making sure to stay hidden until he was close enough. 

The pounding heartbeat terrified Dwight, but he knew that Michael at his full power instilled a fear unlike any other. He was focused now on patching up David. He had just finished wrapping bandages around the other’s shoulder when he spotted the masked man coming close. The knife sunk into his shoulder at the base of his neck, making him cry out in pain and fall backwards when it was quickly torn away. 

Dwight heard David shout again; looking up to see that David had leaped on Michael’s shoulders and tried to rip the mask off. Michael groaned, the struggle buying some time for Dwight to try crawling away. Michael slammed David onto the ground, his boot coming down on the scrapper’s chest. When he strained to cough, Michael turned his attention back to Dwight. 

Dwight braced himself for the next blow or to be picked up, closing his eyes as he pushed himself against the nearest tree. He couldn't help the sharp breath in when he felt the point of the knife under his chin, lifting his head. He barely opened his eyes, seeing Michael's face so close to his that he could see Michael's dark eyes. He was lifted to his feet by his throat, the knife being replaced by a firm, inescapable grip. 

Michael took one look at David, who was pushing himself to his feet with a glare that could burn through metal. Michael then turned his attention back to Dwight, the message now making itself clear to all those present. _If Michael couldn't have Dwight, no one could._

Dwight cried as the knife plunged deep into his body, under his ribcage. Michael looked down to the knife, twisting it to turn the blade up and drive the point further. Dwight’s scream became more strangled and weak. David watched in horror, feeling anger and pain rise quickly. He willed himself to stand despite the agonizing, burning pain he felt. 

“I'LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!” 

Michael let go of Dwight, his knife and hand drenched in blood. Dwight collapsed to the ground, still clinging to life as he tried to cover his wound and stop the bleeding. David grabbed the nearest blunt object as Michael calmly walked close, breaking it across Michael's face. The knife still came down on his shoulder, and it wasn't long before he was put on the nearby hook in front of Dwight. 

David struggled against the Entity’s limbs, seeing the auras of Bill and Nea working on generators. Bill started sneaking close, keeping a wary eye out for Michael. David grit his teeth, straining against the Entity and desperate to get free of the hook and help Dwight. Even while on the hook, David hears the soft whines of pain coming from Dwight. Bill ran to the hook directly, looking over his shoulder briefly. 

“Get Dwight first!” 

Bill ignored him, lifting David off the hook. Michael's footsteps were obvious as they got closer. Bill pushed David into a sprint. 

“Move it!” 

“Don't tell me what to do, I'm not leavin’ Dwight behind!”

The swing of the knife interrupted them and made them split up. David kept running, fully aware that Michael was behind him. Nea finished a generator and quickly moved on to another one that was nearly finished. David ran into the nearby garage with the pallet still standing to try and stun Michael and lose him. He had to go back for Dwight. The gates powered with a loud siren, yet Michael's focus never wavered. If Michael wasn't going to break the pallet of wood, David was going to stay near it until it was no longer safe. 

When Michael finally kicked the slab of wood, David ran off to the brick wall. Nea nearly made him jump, especially when she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the open gate. 

“Let go of me, damn it!” 

She glared over her shoulder. 

“We gotta go or else we're all going to-”

She was cut off as Michael quickly grabbed her and stabbed the knife into her chest, making her scream in pain. Her body was carelessly thrown aside, Michael chasing after David. At the entrance of the gate, Michael simply stared. David turned and stood, catching his breath. 

“Th’fuck are you waiting for?” 

No response. David growled, fists clenching at his sides. The empty stare was clearly conveying to him that this was a punishment for interfering one too many times. He stayed in the standoff until Michael got tired of it, stepping forward. David hated himself for leaving, but it was the best help he could give and potentially give Dwight the hatch and not worry the leader. 

Dwight was glad that David and Bill had run. If the others could survive, his own death would be worthwhile. He heard Nea's cry and winced, curling up and trying to hold on as long as he could. Maybe if he took too long to die, Michael would come back and not go after the others. He heard the grass rustling behind him, closing his eyes in acceptance. 

“Open your eyes, son, you ain't dyin’ here.”

Dwight opened his eyes to Bill wrapping his arm around Dwight’s waist. Dwight’s arm was held over Bill's shoulder, even as his head hung. 

“Don't.. Don't worry.. about me..”

Bill guided Dwight to the nearest gate, taking extra care in keeping an eye out for danger. 

“I told you, ya ain't dyin’ here, you hear me?” 

Dwight nodded once, still stumbling every step even with Bill’s help. The gate they walked to was closed, but Bill wasted no time in working to get it open. Dwight gasped when their heartbeats slowly started picking up in it's pace. 

“Bill-”

Dwight looked up to Bill, seeing the fierce determination clearly on his face. The door opened as Michael came around the hedge. Bill ran to the exit with Dwight firmly in his grip, putting himself between a potential strike. When Michael paused, Bill turned to shout. 

“You leave my team alone, you hear me?!” 

There was only a tilt of the head that indicated any response from Michael. Bill ran into the fog with Dwight, urgently trying to reach the campfire. 

David threw logs into the fire, enraged at Michael. He was angry at himself for failing to keep Dwight safe. He kept his eyes open, to avoid the vivid image of Dwight bleeding to death in front of him every time he closed them. The crackling of the fire helped him not hear the echo of the cries. 

The grass rustling caught David’s attention, jumping to his feet when he saw Bill carrying Dwight back. He rushed to Dwight’s other side, helping him to a comfortable spot to rest. David pressed his hands against Dwight’s wound, uncaring of the blood quickly coating his hands. Bill grabbed a medkit and handed it to David, who nodded once in thanks.

“You’re gonna be alright, aye? I’ve gotcha now.”

Dwight struggled to breathe as David wrapped the bandages around his midsection. Dwight was limp and in pain, but the important thing to David was that he was alive, and he would do more to keep him safe. Dwight grabbed at David’s jacket, which he took off to wrap around the leader. David held him close as Dwight settled in the fabric to rest, with David refusing to let him go anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got real carried away with this one, but it was really fun to write! I combined several requests I had gotten for this one.


	64. Wild Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace meets David turned Killer. (There is some biting, be warned!)

Ace didn’t like worrying about possibilities if he had no way of uncovering the truth of the situation. It was a needless concern that he didn’t stress himself with, it would only serve to bring him down. Yet when David went missing, he couldn’t help being concerned. It was no secret to the others that they were intimate, but the precise details were always lost on them. Ace liked to keep it that way, even if David sometimes bragged. He had taken the downtime he had now to wander into the woods, and see if there was something he could find that would reveal information about the scrapper’s whereabouts. He was concerned that David had picked a fight he shouldn’t have. 

The woods always seemed to repeat the same few trees over and over, providing nothing distinct in navigation. Eventually, Ace knew, he’d find himself back at the campfire. He was good at noticing minor details, small things that others would have missed. He nearly missed the small gashes on the tree that definitely was not there before. They were almost like claw marks, and Ace found himself curious enough to walk past the tree and into the forest behind it. 

The trees were littered with these marks, getting larger and deeper into the bark of the trees. At its heart, there was a well marked cabin, and Ace could instantly tell that the humble exterior betrayed an extravagant interior based alone on the door’s decorations. He walked up to the window and pressed himself against it to look inside, seeing well cushioned couches and chairs, and mounted animals on the walls. _Huntress doesn't do fancy, last I checked._

He gasped at the sudden grip around him, his first instinct to scream and try to free himself as he was lifted off the ground. Strong arms were tight around his waist.

“Here I thought you woulda been happy to see me!” 

_David?_ Ace calmed down, looking over his shoulder at the man that was undoubtedly David, despite being much taller and stronger than Ace remembered.

“David? Where have you been?” 

He was set down, turning to face David. David wore obvious animal pelts around his shoulders, with brass knuckles that resembled teeth. 

“Been a little busy. Don’tcha worry yourself about it. I wouldn't hurt ya.” 

There was the unmistakable terror of the possibility that David could hurt him; that David wasn’t a survivor they could count on anymore. Ace watched David walk over to the door and easily push it open. 

“I promise ya, love. I’m not gonna hurtcha. Nothin’s gonna change between us, yeah?” 

Ace took a deep breath, slowly developing the characteristic smile again. 

“You had me worried.” 

The inside of the cabin was every bit extravagant as Ace expected. It was more like a small mansion than any sort of simple cabin. The loveseat was extremely comfortable, and he found himself lying back in it. 

“How do you ever manage to leave a kinda place like this?” 

David laughed loudly, sitting on the other cushion and giving a wide, toothy grin. 

“You should know me by now! Come on, love.” 

Ace shrugged, then resting his arms behind his head. 

“Touche. I don’t think I’d wanna leave.” 

David’s grin grew devious as he wrapped his arms around Ace and pulled him close. 

“Who says you have to?” 

David shifted in the loveseat to have Ace lean against his chest. David’s hand moved to turn Ace’s head to press gentle kisses against his cheek. Ace let out a calm, deep breath, opening his mouth to speak when he felt the distinct sharpness of teeth bite into his neck. He gasped quietly, looking over his shoulder at a smirking David. 

“I missed ya a lot, love.” 

“Let’s make the most of it then, huh?”


	65. Little Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Huntress helps Jake after he gets injured.

Jake was tired of finding his stashes of things raided. He had no solid idea who it was, although he tended to suspect Nea. She was resourceful with what little supplies they had, but it still gave her no right to take what didn't belong to her. He waited until she had come back from a trial, sporting a very good flashlight that Jake knew he recognized from the three scratches on it's handle, marking it with the letter J. 

“Nea.” 

Nea calmly looked towards Jake, crossing her arms. The flashlight was turned in her hands, and Jake saw the deep gashes in the handle. 

“You and me need to talk. Privately.” 

Nea rolled her eyes, following Jake into the woods beyond the campfire. They walked far enough to see the fire, but too far to be heard by the others there. 

“What’s your deal?” 

“You taking my shit without asking.” 

Nea groaned, rolling her head in an exaggerated motion. 

“Really, you’re bitching about that?” 

This was going to be a _long_ conversation, and Jake could already tell. 

“Yea, especially when you take my stuff without asking me and end up getting it damaged to hell and back.” 

He gestured to the flashlight in her hands, which she groaned in response. 

“We all know I’m far more resourceful with these things than anyone else. You don't even bring anything in, so what's the point of having all this stuff? It's going to waste and I can use it to keep everyone alive.” 

Jake took a step closer, glaring down at her. 

“If you asked, I wouldn't have a problem. It's finding out that half my stuff is gone because you keep taking it “

“You wouldn't mind if Claudette took some of your medkits, would you?”

“No, because she would _fucking ask_ , first.” 

Jake's voice grew quiet as he tried to keep himself from yelling, but the anger was clear. Nea narrowed her eyes. 

“Fine, you worry about your stuff more than the others?! Take your damn flashlight back!”

She threw the flashlight to him, turning to head back to the campfire. 

“I didn't-”

Jake was cut off as the flashlight spun in the air, one of the gashes in it’s handle having cut to the batteries. The throw caused acid to spray from it, landing across his face and in his eyes. He screamed in pain, doubling over and pressing his hands to his eyes. Nea turned around, suddenly shocked. 

“Jake? Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” 

He pushed her away when she got close, stumbling to the nearest tree to lean against it. He still cried in pain, trying to manage to get his eyes open to blink rapidly. The humming of a lullaby sent a chill up his spine. 

He heard Nea curse under her breath, but didn’t stay to hear more of her speaking. He turned to run away from the humming, the last thing he needed now was to get caught by a Killer when he was so vulnerable. He was sure the song was getting louder, and he knew he couldn’t outrun the singer. He felt around for the nearest bush, crawling under the leaves and branches and bit into the scarf around his neck and stayed as still as he could. 

Anna heard the scream of the survivalist, and immediately knew he was injured badly. She respected his ability to survive and traverse the woods with a skill that only came with living alone. She came to the clearing with a beat-up flashlight resting just at the edges of the undergrowth. She knelt down to turn it over, spotting the slashes in the batteries and the leaking of a clear liquid. A quick touch burned, but just as quickly it stopped. She stood up and followed the trait of disturbed plant life, knowing well that his ally had ran in a different direction at the sound of her humming. 

She knew that the clear liquid coming from the flashlight was something dangerous; it wouldn’t be kept contained or burned if it wasn’t. The Entity granted her a great resistance to pain, but the survivors were not granted the same mercy. The survivalist was clearly severely hurt by this liquid, and Anna found herself concerned. There was no blood trails to follow, only footsteps and the shift of plants around her. 

She knelt down when the trail stopped suddenly. Tracks never simply disappeared so suddenly, and Anna intently looked at the nearest places to hide. Climbing a tree would’ve taken too much time, and she undoubtedly would have heard, but she still checked the upper branches. She heard an extremely soft shift, the sound of branches and leaves moving. She could have missed it easily, but she was too well-trained in picking up the smallest of details, even as she hummed the comforting song. 

She only stopped her humming when she saw him cowering in the bushes, muscles tensed and his eyes shut. He was most definitely scared and in pain, and she was sure that he had gotten the burning liquid in his eyes. She noticed the beginnings of burns across his face, confirming her suspicions. His ally must have thrown it at him, had she been unaware? She shook her head, there was no way the survivors would so legitimately turn on each other. She quietly knelt beside the bush and stopped humming, thinking of how she could ease him to trusting her. The last thing she wanted was for him to hurt himself in a panic, as she knew injured and scared animals to do when they were cornered. She tilted her head, putting her axe aside. 

Jake tensed when the humming stopped, not needing to see to know she had found him. He didn’t want to admit he was terrified; there was nowhere he could go without being seen and far too easy for her to grab. _But why isn’t she now?_ He heard her say something he couldn’t understand, the language being her native one. _Is she taunting me?_

“Poor little Raven..” 

He scooted further away, knowing that she was talking to him. He was sure that she was going to terrorize him before killing him. _Does dying outside of a trial mean dying permanently?_ His face and eyes still burned from the acid. He heard her shift, then move closer. 

“Stay away from me.” 

Any sternness in his voice was diminished by the shakiness. He didn’t hear her move more, instead hearing her deep, accented voice. 

“Will help you. You are hurt.” 

He tensed again, trying to reach for the nearest sharp object he could find. He didn’t trust her in the slightest; she spent trial after trial singing as she killed them. He shook his head, the burning pain of the acid starting to worsen. 

“Will not hurt you, promise.” 

His breaths were shaky, and he let his head hang as he thought about his options. The Entity surely wouldn’t let him die outright, but would it let him go blind? He heard her move again, making him recoil. He heard her move the bushes aside, grabbing a small branch from the bush and held it defensively. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

He heard her move again away, but he tightened his grip on the branch, just in case. 

“Eyes are hurt. Will help you, little Raven.” 

Jake fought to keep himself from whining, biting into the scarf. He slowly dragged himself out from the bushes, blindly reaching for where the Huntress was. He gasped when he was picked up gently, cradled against her chest. She started humming again, Jake could feel the rumbling of her vocal chords and hear the deep, soothing song. _Why was it soothing now?_ Her footsteps sounded more solid as she stepped on the wooden floor. 

He was set down gently on a soft blanket, listening to her footsteps as she moved around. He stiffened when she came back, stifling the whine as she delicately lifted his head. He felt a cool, wet fabric wipe at his eyes and face. He tried opening his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them out. 

He saw now that she had taken her mask off, being extremely gentle in her handling of the rag. There was no doubt he was still afraid that she would change her mind, and that he would meet the end of an axe blade. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out rough shapes. Her hand delicately brushed along his cheek.

“Better?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. He swore he saw her smile, before she reached up to pet his hair. 

“Good. Should rest now.” 

She gestured to the neat pile of blankets, allowing him to take as many as he wanted. He slowly got up and walked over to the pile, still blinking his eyes rapidly. He wasn't sure why she wasn't killing him, but he wasn't going to forsake her kindness. He grabbed several soft blankets and curled them around himself, finding a solitary corner to lay against. He felt better with his back to the walls, safer in the knowledge that nothing could sneak up behind him. He closed his eyes again and let himself doze off, while Anna kept a watchful eye over him.


	66. Meeting the Sheriff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael meets Sheriff Brackett.

Being cold, hungry, and cautious was part of a normal routine for Michael. He didn’t have anywhere to go, “home” not being an option with his father. There wasn’t anyone he could ask; Michael himself didn’t, and couldn’t speak. With the damp hoodie hiding his face, he stuck to the decrepit alleyways of the area he knew was terrible, but had little choice in searching around. Even being as skinny as he was, the hoodie was puffy enough to bluff being much more intimidating. 

That is, when it wasn’t raining, making the already damp fabric stick to his thin frame tightly. Being cold, hungry, soaking wet, and horribly sick was somewhat new to him, but far more than enough to make him miserable. He stayed near heavily painted brick walls, staying as far out of sight as he could. When his stomach growled, he looked around for the nearest place to rummage for something, _anything_ to eat. The dumpster behind the seedy bar wasn’t the option Michael would’ve preferred, but the loud growl of his stomach made it clear he didn’t have the luxury of choice. 

He walked around the dumpster to lift the lid, taking a deep breath as he stood in front of it to climb in. He struggled to lift himself into the container itself, arms shaking with his weight. The dumpster only half full, and Michael quickly saw it was filled with tightly wrapped bags. He reached in and grabbed at one, the bag just too far out of his reach if he didn’t jump into the dumpster. 

He started to lift himself into it until he heard the distinct sound of tires coming closer. It was too late at night for there to be any garbage trucks going past. He quickly scrambled out of the dumpster and nudged it just enough to be able to crawl behind it. When he more or less collapsed behind it, he realized then just how sick he was. His head hurt, everything in his body ached, and each weak cough made him shake. 

He kept the hood over his head, pushing himself further behind the dumpster. If someone was keen enough on hurting him, they’d have to move the dumpster to actually get to him. He let himself lay on his side, curling up into a small, shivering ball and listening carefully to the tires. 

Sheriff Leigh Brackett always patrolled this area before heading home, the area being too common of a place for clandestine meetings to occur. There were other capable officers that would handle the rest of the night, but checking always made the Sheriff feel more at ease about going to bed that night. 

When he spotted the dumpster in the alley at an angle, he knew he needed to check. He pulled his cruiser into the alley beside the dumpster, making sure his gun was at his side. He took the flashlight as well, clicking it on and holding it up to carefully inspect the area. The dumpster lid was lifted and the dumpster moved slightly, but there was little else. He slowly walked to the wide angle, shining his flashlight behind it. 

Michael winced at the bright light, hoping that if he didn’t move they would leave him alone. Instead, the dumpster was moved away from him, making him push himself to a sitting position and scoot further away from the person responsible, leaning against the brick wall. 

Leigh Brackett stood stunned. _How old is this kid? No way he should be that skinny._ The way the kid was shivering and hiding himself, it was clear he was cold and scared combined with the wet hoodie that clung tightly to him. Brackett lowered the flashlight so it wasn’t shining in Michael’s eyes, then knelt down to try and make himself seem less intimidating. 

“Are you lost?”

The thought of him having run away from a kidnapper briefly crossed his mind. When he saw the slight shake of Michael’s head, that left only being out here alone on purpose. Even if the kid didn’t want to be home, Brackett couldn’t just leave him here, either. He stood up and quickly grabbed the blanket he kept in the passenger seat of his cruiser, draping it over his arm and walking back over to Michael. 

“Anyone who could come pick you up?”

Another shake of the head. Brackett sighed quietly, realizing now he had likely run away from whatever place he called home before. 

“I’m going to take you to the hospital, okay?”

Michael kept his eyes on the ground, away from the Sheriff. He knew there was no way he could manage to get away from the Sheriff if the other was determined enough. He couldn’t stop shivering, the illness making his head spin. He was cold, hungry, and absolutely exhausted, and surely anything was better than that?

The blanket wrapped around him was a welcome change from the routine he grew used to. He held onto it and kept it close around him, equal parts terrified of the Sheriff and desperate for any help he could get. The hood was gently lowered, blanket adjusted to be entirely around him. He tensed at the touch around his back and waist.

“Alright, I’m gonna get you into my cruiser, okay?” 

Michael closed his eyes, nodding once. He was easily lifted, unable to help the quiet whine. Brackett set him in the passenger seat, making sure to secure the seatbelt around the blanket. The car was so warm, but he still shivered at the cold he had gotten used to seeping into him. His head spun more now, and keeping himself conscious was becoming harder with the lull of the heat. 

“I'm getting you help, you just gotta stay awake, okay?”

Brackett quickly settled himself into the driver's seat, backing out of the alley and blaring sirens as he sped to the hospital. Michael wanted nothing more than to let himself fall asleep, yet every time his head even slightly shifted down he was shaken by Brackett. 

“Almost there, come on. Just hang on.” 

He pulled the blanket around him tighter at the coughing fit that wracked his body, hurting his chest and throat. It wasn’t a long drive at all; Michael had sworn it was only a few minutes before Brackett stepped out of the cruiser and went around to get him. He kept his eyes closed and himself limp as the Sheriff quickly carried him inside the hospital’s doors, looking for the nearest nurse. 

“Sheriff? What-”

“I’ll answer later. Right now, this kid needs help, _badly._ ” 

“O-Of course, right this way.”

The bright lights above him felt like they were glaring harshly directly at him. He tried burying his face in Brackett’s shoulder and hide from the blinding lights. 

“Just a little bit longer, okay?” 

Michael couldn’t help the second coughing fit in place of an answer. He was gently set down on a soft bed, sitting up with Brackett’s help. The nurse quickly walked out of the room, leaving Michael and Brackett in the room together. 

“Just a few more minutes, a doctor is gonna take care of you, okay?” 

Brackett barely noticed Michael’s head nod, thinking of anything else he could do to help. _This kid is way too young to look so drained._ The doctor quickly entered the room, his attention immediately on Michael. Brackett stayed nearby, watching the doctor examine Michael. He could tell that Michael was tense, uncomfortable with someone touching him so much. The doctor quickly stepped back, turning his attention to the Sheriff.

“I can already tell he’s very ill, and extremely malnourished. It’ll take some time for him to fully recover. Did you get his name?”

Brackett shook his head. 

“No, but his family is out of the question.”

The doctor glanced over to Michael, whose head was bowed and his gaze on the floor. 

“Based on how he is, just taking a quick look, he’s been on his own for awhile now. I’ll make sure he gets some rest and is taken care of, then we can look into getting his name.” 

Michael looked up finally, darting his attention between the two. Brackett nodded, turning to walk out until he felt a small tug on his shirt. Michael let go, hesitantly signing letters with his hands. Brackett knew it wasn’t typical sign language, but he was able to understand each letter Michael signed to him. He nodded and repeated the letters, to make sure he was getting them right. 

“Michael, is it? What’s your last name?”

Michael nodded, signing out M-Y-E-R-S. Brackett nodded, the doctor confused at the sigh he heard from the Sheriff. 

“Something wrong?”

Brackett shook his head, keenly aware of how Michael hung his head again. 

“No, nothing’s wrong. The name’s come up to me before, that’s all.” 

The doctor nodded once, satisfied enough with the answer. 

“I’ll be just a few minutes, and when I return I strongly recommend he stay here and rest where we can make sure he will pull through. After tonight, he should be well enough to leave.” 

Brackett nodded, watching the doctor leave the room. Michael kept his gaze down, trying to organize his thoughts as his head spun. _Where am I supposed to go to after leaving here?_ He turned to look at Brackett sitting next to him. 

“My name’s Leigh Brackett, Michael. I’ll take care of you, okay? No more scavenging in dumpsters in the rain.” 

Michael nodded weakly, and Brackett took that as his cue to get up. 

“Alright, I’m gonna stop bothering you and let you rest. I’ll be here in the morning, okay?” 

Michael nodded again, a small smile on his face. Brackett turned to walk out as the nurse walked back in with the doctor, knowing very well that he would likely be looking into adoption soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on aviatorhead's Michael Brackett AU! It's hella cute, you should totally go check it out. I was feeling kinda bad and wanted to take a break from requests and write something I had in mind.


	67. With Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael gains an obsession with Quentin, but Quentin is far different from Laurie.

Myers found Quentin Smith interesting. The young man who at first seemed like an easy target was surprisingly resourceful and determined, quickly becoming one of the more troublesome survivors. He found himself starting to be obsessed with him as he was with Laurie; always conflicted between wishing to be close and wanting to see their blood painting the walls and ground. 

He sought the dreamwalker out both in and out of trials as he did with Laurie, one driven by bloodlust and the other driven by the wish to be as close to family as he could. Quentin, however, never softened to him the way Laurie did. 

In trials, Quentin was a young man to be respected, always finding something to stab into Michael’s neck and making him let go. He helped the others escape every trial without faltering, even if it meant he was the only sacrifice. Michael noticed how hard Quentin tried every trial to keep everyone alive. 

Outside of trials, Quentin stayed predominantly near the fire. Michael only caught him straying a few times, somehow always aware when he came near. He was far too observant of danger at the slightest twitch for someone his age. Michael’s only option to try and talk to Quentin was in a trial.

Quentin was _not_ going to cooperate, Michael noticed. Every time he came near the insomniac, he ran instantly, ducking out of sight. Yet, Michael knew that Quentin was always close enough, in case someone else got caught by him. He didn’t want to kill Quentin just yet, without establishing that he could be friendlier than expected. 

It was when he had been blinded for the third time by Quentin that he was quickly filled with rage and bloodlust. He turned to pursue and quickly caught up, grabbing the back of Quentin’s coat and yanking him backwards. Quentin yelped, trying to free himself from the iron grasp. 

Michael turned Quentin around to face him, holding onto his throat. He tilted his head slightly, almost surprised by the sheer hatred in the other’s eyes. He brought his face close enough to allow his eyes to be seen underneath the mask, trying to convey some sympathy before he plunged the knife into Quentin’s chest. 

Quentin cried out in pain, falling limp when Michael let go of his grip and held his knife at his side. The other three had gotten out, he knew, but Michael had other plans now. It was clear to him that there would never be any sort of calm for Quentin until his main adversary was dealt with; the Nightmare that prided himself on wit and being unkillable. 

Michael would change that, and in time, build a tentative closeness with the his new obsession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the huge delay on this chapter! I've been very involved with my tumblr blogs for my DbD OC as well as a blog for Ace, and I've been pretty focused on writing for my OC. I might post the stories I've been writing for her here too, but I don't want to add too many self indulgent pieces of my own OCs, but what do you guys think?


	68. Coincidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 'Entity-Never-Happened' AU story, of my DbD [Alicia 'Zeka' Kline](http://zeka-dbd.tumblr.com/) and [sociophobicsaboteur's](https://sociophobicsaboteur.tumblr.com) Jake! I hope you all don't mind me adding in my own character, and I don't imagine I'll do this too often unless people really enjoy my character. Be warned, this has a bit of darker content in the form of self-harm.

Zeka listened to the car’s radio as she followed the directions on her GPS. She knew of the place she was heading to; a typically rich and prestigious family needing specific fixes and being uncaring about time or convenience. 

That was how Zeka found herself driving out with her bag of tools, albeit being well paid for her time. The metal gates were closed, making her double check the time. She was still early, set to arrive at 8:30 while being there at 8pm. She looked out of the window at the gates, noting the engraving on either side stating ‘Park Manor’. 

She took a deep breath, parking her car on the side of the road, getting out and testing the gates. They were well locked, and she debated climbing over the fence. With her bag over her shoulder, she looked for any sort of bell or buzzer. She nearly jumped when the gate was unlocked before her, and a man in a suit opened the gate. 

“Miss.. ‘Zeka’, yes?”

She nodded, adjusting the bag on her shoulders. 

“Yes, Zeka Kline.” 

The man nodded, gesturing her to follow. She followed without another word, walking up the well kept pathway. She was impressed by its appearance, nearly bumping into the man when he stopped to open a grand wooden door. She walked in after him, suddenly extremely conscious about tracking in mud. 

“Please be sure to wipe your shoes well.”

A different man spoke up, and Zeka recognized the owner of the voice as the senior Park, standing in a suit next to his wife. He seemed almost in disbelief, intently staring her down. 

“Am I to believe you are the one to be fixing the issues we are having with our computers?”

_Oh boy._

“Yes, I am. Is there anything wrong?”

She couldn’t help the tilt of her head as she challenged him. _No one disrespected her like that._

“Are you sure you’re qualified to fix this problem? You hardly look professional.”

Zeka adopted a _sickeningly_ sweet smile. 

“I’m very sure, sir. I can have this problem fixed before midnight.” 

He still seemed skeptical, but instead walked to the door. 

“Very well. I’ll be out to dinner, and when I return I expect everything to be perfect.”

Zeka nodded, watching the couple walk out the door. She sighed, taking plastic coverings from her bag and slipping them over her shoes. She looked to the man who guided her inside. 

“Where is the main computer and modem?” 

“Right this way.” 

She quietly followed behind, marveling at the extravagance of the home’s interior. She was lead upstairs to a pristine office, a very expensive computer sitting on a fancy desk. 

“If you need anything, you need only ask.”

“I think I’ll be okay, thank you.”

The man nodded and left the room, leaving Zeka to herself. She took her laptop out and got to work. 

 

 

Jake sat in the bathroom, staring down at the small, bloody edge of the blade he pressed against his skin. Blood poured from his arms, giving some indication that he was still human. He took shaky breaths as he sat on the tiled floor, head leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes, fighting back emotions. 

Jake gripped the blade’s handle tightly, freezing when he heard faint _singing._ He knew his parents had gone out, there shouldn’t be anyone home that would bother him. His parents didn’t get home until past 11, and it was still 10:15. Whoever this person was, their singing voice was _beautiful._

He realized now they were getting closer. He stood with a jolt, frantically looking around for bandages. He hissed when he tightly wrapped the bandages from the medicine cabinet, and the fabric made contact with the open cuts. The voice got clearer, and he could tell now it was a higher pitch voice, and likely a woman. 

[“~I will never understand the power you were holding ohh-ho-ver me~!”](https://youtu.be/H1WmNkobGC4)

He heard the door swing open, then a loud yelp. He turned to see a young woman turned away with her face in her hands. She eventually lowered her heads to cover her cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think there was anyone else here.” 

She turned to face him, and he _immediately_ was taken aback by her beauty. He stood like a deer in headlights, clearly stunned as she started to take several steps backwards. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I-I can find a different bathroom.” 

“No, it’s fine. I had no idea there was someone else here.”

She smiled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“I thought I was pretty obvious singing to myself for the past hour. And, I kinda thought I was here alone and was just going to use the bathroom before leaving. But really, it’s okay! Technically I should be going now since my job here is done.” 

Jake’s attention briefly darted to the blood on the floor, then back to her. 

“Your job?”

She nodded, adjusting a bag he now noticed over her shoulder. She held onto the bag’s strap tightly. 

“Yeah, I came out here to fix some computer issues. I just finished up. But uhm, my name is Zeka.” 

“Jake Park.” 

She smiled, reaching out to shake his hand. He hesitated, looking around to try and find some gloves to slip on. 

“Sorry, I know handshakes aren’t everyone’s thing. I should get going now, so uh, see you!” 

She quickly turned to leave, leaving Jake dumbfounded. He shook his head, moving to clean up the blood off the floor. 

Zeka groaned when she got into her car, pressing her forehead against the steering wheel. _God, I’m so fucking dumb._ She leaned back in the seat, rubbing her eyes. She took a deep breath before recollecting herself and driving home, doing everything she could to avoid thinking about her embarrassment. 

She was relieved to finally be home when she pulled into the driveway, even with the return to her life as Alicia. She sighed, letting herself in with her keys. She knew she would have to practice singing for the masquerade party her mother would not stop talking about. She herself had her outfit already planned out; a slim, golden dress that reached just past the center of her thighs. Her shoes were a matching gold, high heeled boots that were comprised more accurately of thin straps. 

She hadn’t tried it on before and would have liked it more if she wasn’t being forced to go and perform. The mask was glittery and stunning with feathers trailing off one side. The edges were adorned with obviously fake, but still shiny and new gemstones. It fit with the songbird motif planned for her performance. She sighed again, putting her things aside and changing for bed. Her thoughts spun, before settling down after easing her awkward memory of the day. 

 

Most of Zeka’s days were uneventful up until the day of the party. It was online classes and work as normal, then practicing at home with her mother. She kept her range flexible, knowing the songs she might have to sing could change. It was hardly anything official, no set program of songs, but Zeka knew she’d be expected to sing. Her mother was a singer professionally (when she wasn’t taking on the role of housewife) and far too good at it for her daughter to go unnoticed. 

She sat still in the chair, quiet as her mother brushed her hair and removing curlers one by one. She was making sure her hair was properly styled. 

“Excited, Ali sweetheart?”

Zeka gave a small smile, hands in her lap. 

“Nervous, mostly.” 

Her mother ran her hand over the soft, curled hair. 

“You have nothing to be scared of, babygirl. You’re going to be _wonderful._ And you are going to look stunning.” 

Zeka smiled again, letting her thoughts wander as her mother continued to style and brush her hair. 

Jake hated wearing a suit. It was far too stuffy and uncomfortable, worn for the sake of a family that didn’t care about him. He adjusted the star-patterned mask on his face. With a deep breath, he walked out of his bedroom and made sure every part of his suit was pristine. The clock on the wall read 8:30, just half an hour before the main party was to start. He walked downstairs, silently getting into the limo he knew his parents owned. He stared out the window at the night sky during the drive to the party. He didn’t realize they arrived until he heard the door abruptly open. He quietly followed his parents into the city building repurposed for the night of masquerade. He already plotted several ways to get out of this event. 

Even with the mask, the intricate details of his suit made his identity obvious as a son of the Park family. _Defeats the purpose of masquerade._ He took the silver bird pin from his pocket and set it over the embroidery when he got inside. It was already as he expected, and it was just barely past 9pm. He gave polite smiles to people who walked up to talk to him, more likely because of the clear marks of a rich background. 

He kept catching glimpses of gold, always unable to see who exactly it was. Each time, he felt his heart skip a beat. _Who was this person?_

He was thankful for the pause of music and tapping of a microphone, saving him from his thoughts and another identical conversation with a different person in a different outfit. 

“I hate to interrupt the festivities, but we have a _very special_ guest today! The young Alicia Kline is going to grace us with a performance. I’m sure many of you have heard of her mother, Liana Kline, and only good marks of her daughter’s skill. Without further ado, miss Alicia Kline!” 

Jake watched the stunning form of Alicia walk up to the microphone on stage in the same golden outfit he kept seeing. It didn’t take him long to realize she was _incredibly_ uncomfortable. He also quickly noticed just how beautiful she was under the spotlights, the outfit reminded him of a canary. She waved to the man on the piano, who started playing in a slow, gradual crescendo. When she started singing, Jake swore his heart stopped. 

[“~Fear not this night, you will not go, astray~!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xtpxNOe6vvc)

_I know her voice._ The same voice he had heard weeks ago, by pure accident. She had introduced herself as Zeka, and for those weeks he wasn’t able to get her out of his mind. He watched in a stunned daze, the words of her singing piercing through his heart. 

“~And you, can always be strong! Lift your voice! With the first light, of dawn~!” 

It was as if behind that golden mask were the omnipotent eyes of a goddess; one that knew every facet of his life up until tonight, and appeared in the form of a mortal to grace him with her presence. 

He fought back tears in his eyes, grateful for the mask he was able to hide behind. The only sounds he heard were the piano and Zeka’s voice. 

“~And, though the night sky’s, filled with black-ness, Fear not, Rise up! Call out and take my hand~!” 

She reached her hand out to the crowd, but Jake still felt like she was singing to him in particular. _Did everyone feel that way?_

“~Dawn’s, just a heartbeat, away~! Hope’s, just a sunrise, away~!” 

She took a step back, giving a small smile and bow as the piano and orchestra trailed off. The uproar of applause drowned everything out. He watched her be delicately lead off the stage, and near instantly be surrounded by endlessly chattering men in suits. 

Zeka wasn’t averse to the attention she was getting, but their closeness to her was starting to get uncomfortable. She was too polite to decline offers to dance or to walk away from the crowd. In dances, she let the other lead, as she was terribly inexperienced. 

Jake had to shoulder past several crowds of people to even get close to Zeka. A _defensive_ surged filled him when he saw a man tightly holding her hand, even as she tried to pull herself away. 

“My dear, won’t you at least humor me with a date?” 

_Absolutely **not.**_

Jake edged his way between them, giving the other man a clear, venomous glare. ‘Walk away, now’, it warned. Zeka let out a quiet sigh of relief when he turned to leave without another moment’s hesitation. 

“Thank you so much for that.” 

Tension seemed to ease from her shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile at her small grin, and at how relaxed and comfortable she sounded in an instant. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Zeka.” 

She blinked in surprise, gasping when she caught sight of the unique color of his eye and realized who was behind the mask.

“Jake? Is that really you?”

He nodded once, tilting his head slightly in confusion when she laughed. 

“I had no idea, oh my God. That’s twice now, isn’t it? But, my name is actually Alicia, though. Zeka’s just… a nickname I go by sometimes.” 

The hesitation in her voice felt like a knife being twisted into his heart. 

“But you prefer being called Zeka, right?”

She gave a small nod. 

“I do, but-”

“Then you’re Zeka, at least to me.”

She grinned with a quick, sweet chuckle. Jake smiled widely, suddenly entirely unsure when her comfort and happiness had become _so important_ to him. Just as suddenly, he had an idea. 

“Can I show you something?”

He held his hand out to her, which she took with barely a second of hesitation. 

“Of course. What are you showing me?”

“That’s a surprise. Just follow me.”

He led her through the crowd, taking the silver pin off to fully display the embroidered P on his chest. Security guards simply nodded once to him when he passed and guided Zeka to the grand balcony that proudly granted a view of the night sky, music from the main hall echoing to them. 

Jake gladly watched her expressions of _pure joy,_ staring in awe at the rare view. 

“This is so amazing.. I’ve never seen the stars so bright.” 

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her as she stared at the sky with wonder. 

“It’s more beautiful than I can even describe.” 

She laughed, tracing patterns between stars with her eyes. Jake watched, barely nodding. _If only I had the courage to say that to you._ He slowly turned his attention to the sky. 

“Tonight’s one of the best nights for stargazing.” 

She looked over with a wide grin, one that Jake had the sudden desire to protect and ensure she would always smile like that. _When had he fallen so hard for a woman he barely knew?_

“I’ve never really stargazed much. I’m pretty much a shut-in if I have the choice. I’m not a huge party person either, but here I am.” 

She shrugged casally, laughing at her own statement. 

“Neither am I. I never enjoy wearing suits like this.”

She turned her attention back to him quickly. 

“They’re _terrible._ I’ll take my robots any day, but.. I don’t have a choice tonight.”

Jake couldn’t help a laugh. 

“I didn’t have a choice either, but.. It’s not so bad.”

_Because you’re here._

She nodded as she looked around. 

“It’s not, but..God, I didn’t think there’d be _so many_ people wanting to talk to me. It’s _exhausting._ I should head back eventually, though..”

Even the slightest hint of distress from her was too much for him. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’d.. be happy to stay here with you.” 

Zeka looked to the door. 

“Would that be okay? I mean, I didn’t even think we were allowed up here.” 

_She’s still so concerned about intruding._ He shook his head. 

“No one else should come up here, and I promise it’s fine.” 

She nodded, letting out a breath of relief. 

“Okay, good. I didn’t wanna trespass by accident.” 

He admired the way she held her hands together. After a moment’s hesitation, he held a pure white, gloved hand to her. 

“Would you like to dance with me?” 

Zeka turned in surprise, heat rising in her cheeks. 

“I’d love to! But, I’m not actually that great of a dancer. I don’t know how to at all.” 

“I can teach you, just follow my lead.” 

He delicately held her hands and guided her steps, enjoying the rare peace of the echoing music and slowly dancing under the bright stars of the night, all the while praying tonight never ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind my insertion of my own OC into this collection! This is what I'd been working on a lot, and this is one of my longest fics, haha. I should be posting another drabble soon!


	69. Bring Into Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda doesn't like when her ideals are questioned, and Laurie does just that.

Amanda had quickly come to know the survivors well; the subjects of the trials that she tested and punished. She had kept extensive notes on all of them, what made them who they were, and how best to break them down. She was _nothing_ if not thorough in her attempts to prove herself, and make herself worthy of being Jigsaw’s disciple. 

It was the veteran survivor that made her curious, Laurie Strode. The woman was a challenge to sufficiently note information on; nothing seemed to make her afraid. Even Amanda looming over her after stabbing the small blade through her hand didn’t phase her. She was always in a panic, but that was to be expected. Nothing seemed to unsettle the resolve within her. 

Amanda _hated_ it. She hated her foundations being shaken, the very ideals that built her up were brought into question. Laurie had done everything to survive, fighting until the very end no matter the odds. It was just the ideal that Jigsaw taught, that one did not appreciate their life until they had to fight to keep it. And Amanda watched her, time and time again, fight with everything she had. 

Amanda sought out the survivor’s campfire to demand answers to questions even she didn’t know. She needed an _explanation_ , there was _no possible way_ that she had made mistakes in her ideals, _Jigsaw’s ideals_ , not when she had been so dutiful to keeping John and his work alive. 

She crouched and waiting in the treeline, waiting patiently for Laurie to step into the bushes. _It’s only a matter of time._ Time didn’t matter, she could wait for days for what was important to her. When the grass rustled after what she could only guess was hours, she was glad to see the blonde head and distinct blue shirt. 

She stood and grabbed Laurie’s arm, unfazed by the yelp from her. Almost immediately, Laurie began fighting to free her arm. 

“Let go!” 

Amanda growled, reaching up to pull her own mask off. 

“What is it with you?! Despite everything, you keep trying _so hard_ against everything that should be skewed against you! You shouldn't be winning!”

Laurie blinked in surprise, still pulling her arm away from Amanda. 

“This is never about winning! It’s about _living!_ ” 

Laurie took her arm away, staring warily at Amanda. The tension between them settled in the air like a cloud, neither willing to break the silence. Amanda growled under her breath as the awkwardness settled and dug into her skin. 

“No, you're trying to throw me off!” 

Her head spun faster, and she started grabbing at her short hair. The mask fell to the ground as she grabbed at her hair with both hands. 

“Why do you have to be _confusing?!_ Why can’t you just _play the game like everyone else!_ ” 

Laurie blinked in surprise. _What was she meant to do?_ Cautiously, she took several steps forward. Before Laurie had a chance to speak, Amanda grabbed the mask and stormed off into the woods to head back to her realm, and try to organize her thoughts. Laurie stared in confusion, then turned back to head to the campfire and sort out her own thoughts on what just happened, and what she was going to do.


	70. Well-Deserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight goes through his first test as a Killer.

Dwight wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He never quite thought about the reality of becoming a Killer, of finally snapping and giving up. He expected it to be a lot more painful, and for him to feel so much more _desolate_ than he did now. He was sure he had David to thank for that mercy, yet there was still the inescapable feeling of this being his permanent fate; there was no chance of leaving, and that he should try to enjoy what he could. 

There was, too, the deep-seated conflict he felt about the remaining survivors. Some of them, he still liked, but others were ones he despised with a passion. He was surprised by the sudden tug, whispers around him urging him onwards. _Was this what being summoned to a trial felt like?_ He got up and obeyed, following where the whispering commanded him to go. 

The fog closed in close, more welcoming than foreboding. It was no longer something he feared, or even had to. It was something that would never hurt him anymore. Nothing would. In an instant, he found himself in Shelter Woods, trees looming high above him. He slowly looked around, surprised to see the world in a different way. Yet, the storm of emotions seemed to only worsen, and he couldn’t help the tears falling down his face. _He wasn’t sad, why was he crying?_

He pushed himself to moving, knowing the rules of trials well. He knew that failure to do what he was expected would result in punishment, and after David had risked himself to keep Dwight safe from the Entity’s cruel grip? Dwight could not disappoint. But he still couldn’t understand why he was crying so much. 

He heard the survivor before he saw them. _When has my hearing been so sensitive?_ He felt an instant desire to shed blood, to sink claws into their back. Whoever they were didn’t matter, not as much as hurting them. He felt like there was a terrible weight on his shoulders, but was being reassured that he could relieve it, if he did as he was told. 

Dwight obeyed, chasing down the source of the noise. He couldn’t even tell who it was, but it didn’t matter. Claws raked through flesh easily, and Dwight paused to stare at the blood on his hand. _Why didn’t it help? Why did he feel so terrible still?_

‘ _Again! Again!_ ’ 

The voice was clearer now, but still in a whisper. He chased after them, not willing to let them escape and allow the threatening pressure to close in on him. The urgency made more tears stream down his face. He couldn’t fail now, _he couldn’t._ He quickly gained on the survivor, watching them run towards a window. 

_‘Now! Now!’_

In a brief, instinctive motion, Dwight clenched his left hand, watching as the spikes materialized before him in the window and impaling themselves into the survivor. They fell from the window when the spikes disappeared, crying in pain not so differently from how he once did. He almost felt sorry for the survivor, wanting to feel sympathy for their pain. Yet, he knew that he had been left to cry and scream for help, only for nothing to come. Newfound rage filled him, and he walked around the window to grab the downed survivor. He still remembered the rules well, looking for the nearest hook. 

_‘Prove yourself to me, and I will grant you what you desire.’_

He tilted his head slightly. _What does that mean?_ He stared down at the survivor’s shaking form, clearly afraid as he simply stared. He didn’t realize when he started growling, being reminded too much of himself, when he had done the same and prayed for help, only to be abandoned, again, and _again, and **again.**_

_**He picked the survivor up in a tight hug, praying now for the chance to get his revenge, to make them _suffer. **Let me do this by my own hand.** _ ** _

_**_‘You have my blessing.’_ ** _

_**He felt the survivor’s sudden gasp as spikes burst from him into them, withdrawing when he let go. They writhed on the grassy floor, each moment they weakened was more of the weight taken off of his shoulders. His eyes never left their form as they eventually stopped, and the whispering in his ears sounded proud.** _

_**_‘Well done. You have passed my test, and for that, I reward you.’_ ** _

_**The fog closed in around Dwight, and when it cleared he found himself back at the home he knew to be David’s. It felt.. Warm, and inviting, as if this was the place he was only meant to return to. He walked in the door and saw David lounging on the couch, grinning widely when the other saw Dwight.** _

_**“Lookit ya! Had your first test, huh? And ya passed with flyin’ colors, got blood all over ya.”** _

_**David sounded so overjoyed, it was hard for Dwight not to smile, or to hug David tightly when the scrapper walked close.** _

_**“Come on, we’ve earned some time to ourselves, yeah?”** _

_**Dwight nodded, following beside David. It felt _satisfying_ to deal well-deserved punishment onto the survivors, to take his revenge on the people who dared to turn their back on him. ** _

_**_Things were good._ ** _


	71. One Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Entity's Killers all have one purpose, but they still interact with each other.

It was rare for the Entity to allow all of it’s servants together, all the Killers in the same, small location. It would have liked to be able to keep them together, but with monsters that committed terrible acts of their own free will in most cases, it was tricky at best. There were some that it had to force into action, that would rather be anywhere but in the Entity’s realm. Then, there were the ones that were willing in their part, that even enjoyed it. 

The Entity noticed that the initial three, The Wraith, The Trapper, and The Hillbilly, seemed to stick together often if they had the chance. It sometimes struck the being as odd, where The Trapper was utterly dedicated to killing survivors, The Wraith was a polar opposite. The Hillbilly was… interesting, it rarely took much coercing to get him to happily sprint with his chainsaw and brutally murder survivors. Perhaps their closeness was due to their early arrival to it’s realm compared to the others. 

Some of the others were loners by nature. Michael and Freddy didn’t tend to talk to others, the former due to a habit of silence, and the latter because of a general distaste for other Killers. Freddy had an ego, the Entity noticed, and didn’t quite care to change that so long as he killed. 

Leatherface and The Hag seemed to get along well, and the Entity wasn’t surprised. They showed each other their handiwork, and the Entity was somewhat impressed at how well they could communicate without ever talking. The Entity swore it could see the crouching form of Amanda now and then, lurking around any group that gathered. 

She was most often by The Huntress and The Nurse, the latter of the two preferring the company of the outdoorswoman compared to that of The Doctor. But, The Doctor’s presence was one that the Entity knew many disliked. 

When it gathered all of them together, the Entity always attentively watched them. The last thing it needed was it’s Killers wasting their energy fighting each other. And for the most part, they knew better. Some tensions flared, especially between The Huntress and Freddy, but for the most part there was no issues that required it’s intervention. 

The deity noticed that the Killers rarely talked, even if they could. It was a tense relationship between each other, all tied together because of their shared purpose to provide sacrifices to the Entity itself. There was little need for them to interact with each other much, but also less for them to be hostile with one another, when there were survivors to hunt and kill.


	72. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan wants to apologize to Philip.

There was no denying in Evan’s mind that he was a willing Killer for the Entity, resigned to his duty of Killing survivors. If he didn’t want to, at any point, the Entity would have changed that swiftly. That didn’t mean that Evan had to be excessively cruel to the other Killers, no matter how willing they were. But the Entity’s words were law, and when he was ordered to punish Philip, Evan obeyed. 

In the breaks between many trials, Evan saw no trace of the Wraith. At first, he was unconcerned. Philip was a phantom, moving with only a shimmering silhouette. It was when Philip’s form wasn’t ever seen, even as a vague shape, that Evan got concerned. There was a small, festering guilt, and an undeniable weight on him. It was heavy on his shoulders and chest, knowing he was the reason for Philip hiding. 

He went the only person he could think of being able to tell where he was: Sally. She and him both shared a strange, otherworldly connection, and could be burned terribly by the flashlight’s bright beam. It affected all Killers, but nowhere nearly as bad as them. He saw her floating form delicately sewing fabric together with white thread, and stormed over. 

“Sally.” 

His voice sounded always irritated, making her look up suddenly and put her needlework down. 

“What is it? Are you hurt?” 

He shook his head quickly. 

“No, I’m fine. It’s, about Philip. Have you seen him?” 

She stood and tilted her head, leaving her needlework on the makeshift chair. Floating above the ground, she saw the vague, nearly invisible form of the Wraith wrapped around Evan’s upper body. 

“Has he been missing?” 

“Why would I ask if he wasn’t? It’s been weighing on me.” 

“I don’t believe that’s the reason you feel that weight on you.” 

Evan paused, letting out an annoyed sigh. 

“How long have you been fucking doing that?” 

“..A while.” 

Philip could tell Evan wasn’t _actually_ annoyed, but it had been nice to watch him fret over his own well being, even though Evan had been the one to hurt him. It wasn’t that he had wanted to, it was that the Entity _made him_. Philip stood to his feet and rang the bell to show himself. 

“Don’t fucking scare me like that again.” 

Evan’s voice was authoritative, and Philip nodded, knowing well that it was out of actual concern rather than anger at being made to look like a bit of a fool. Philip watched Evan stomp off, and followed after him with a smile to Sally, who sat back down to continue her work.


	73. I Do Adore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight adores David.

Dwight was always very quiet about how he felt when it come to love and crushes. Back home, it was out of fear, he knew he would be made fun of for it. In the Entity’s realm, he knew it was hardly the best time to mention it, they had to focus on survival. Yet, he could never help the way his heart skipped a beat each time he saw David. Instead, he focused on making sure David survived each trial, even through the scrapper always looked for a fight and kept his friends safe. 

It was hard to keep himself from being an embarrassed mess when David fought tooth and nail for him. Especially last trial, where Dwight was sure he was going to feel the sharp pain of a knife through his chest when Michael’s hand went to his throat to lift him, just inches from the gate’s exit. It was _crushing_ , until he heard Michael groan and drop him. Dwight stumbled to his feet and ran out, seeing David right behind him. Dwight knew the other two were already out by the time he had finally escaped. 

Dwight sat by the campfire, thankful to have escaped death for one more trial. David sat next to him, obviously concerned. 

“Oi, Dwight, you alright?” 

Dwight nearly jumped, not hearing when David actually sat down. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for saving me there.” 

David pat Dwight’s back with a wide grin. 

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving ya behind, mate!” 

“Still, thanks. I really appreciate it when you get in the way.”

There was a moment of silence, before Dwight realized how bad that sounded. 

“I-I mean, in the good way! When you get between me or someone else and the Killer.” 

_Good job, Dwight._ He sighed, hating how he seemed to perfectly mess up his words every time he was trying to be sincere. He silently wondered why he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. _Puppy love is hard to ignore._

He heard David laugh loudly, patting his back again. 

“Don’t worry about it, I got what ya meant. I appreciate ya showing me what to do. Helps keep me focused.” 

Dwight smiled, laughing in return. 

“Yeah, no problem!”

_Heaven help me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on a song by the same name! It's really cute, do check it out!


	74. The Flu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill doesn't want to spread the Green Flu.

Bill took the safety of the other survivors very seriously. Hell itself would sooner freeze over than for anyone to watch the soldier leave someone behind. He was fine being left behind himself, if it meant his team was safe. There was no changing him, and he figured there was no getting rid of The Green Flu, even if it didn’t affect him, he had no idea if it would affect the others. They did not come from a ruined world like he did, where zombies roamed in overwhelming numbers, and he could accidentally get others ill by simply being near them. 

With his old group, he never had to worry about losing them because of his own doing. But with the survivors he grew close to here, the thought was always on his mind, especially when his arm bled and coated his jacket with blood. He was careful in hiding it until he could patch himself up, to avoid any possible chance of causing the permanent death of any of the others. 

He figured he was doing well enough until Claudette emerged from bushes, and he knew he couldn’t hide his injury from her. 

“Bill, let me help you.” 

“I’ll be fine, kid. Get generators done.” 

Claudette stood with the medkit in her hands, refusing to move. 

“Bill, don’t be like David and refuse to let me heal you. You’re going to be hooked sooner rather than later if you do that.”

“Claudette, I’m not gonna tell ya again, go do a goddamn generator.”

“I’m not moving, Bill.” 

She reached for his arm, and Bill quickly took a step back away from her and held his arm close to himself defensively. 

_“Go do a damn generator, Claudette! I’m not gonna let you get sick and die trying to help me!”_

Claudette narrowed her eyes, thoroughly confused. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Where I’m from, I’m a carrier for a deadly flu. Kills people and turns them into goddamn zombies. I’m not letting that happen to anyone here, so don’t touch my goddamn arm.”

Claudette sighed, taking out protective gloves from the medkit and putting them on. 

“I know what I’m doing, Bill. I can help you and not get myself sick at all, if we even can.”

Bill groaned, outstretching his arm to let her see it. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ get any of my goddamn blood on you, you understand?” 

“Bill, I went to school for this, I won’t.”

He hated the faintest idea of putting her at risk, but he knew better than to argue with Claudette when she had her mind made up. He vowed to himself to find out if he still had the Green Flu, without putting the others at risk. He had to know.


	75. Michael Brackett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Michael Brackett AU!

Michael blinked his eyes open in the blank white room of the hospital. He was still terribly sick, and he knew that well based off the dull headache and the sensitivity he still had to light. He was grateful that the room's lights were off. He still had the clothes from last night on, but saw that there was a spare set on the bedside table. The clothes were painfully oversized, clearly not meant to fit him, but it was better than the hoodie he wore that had been thoroughly drenched. 

He was much warmer in the oversized clothes, wrapping himself in them and the blankets. His stomach was growling now, but he didn't find it in him to move from the pile of warmth he made for himself. He was able to curl into a small ball, only moving in the slightest when he heard the door open. 

The nurse caught the movement, putting the plate of _amazing looking food_ on the bedside. 

“I hope I didn't wake you, Michael. Sheriff Brackett wanted to make sure you ate something for breakfast. He should be coming by soon to check up on you.” 

Michael sat up and reached out of his blanket cocoon for the plate, wholly uncaring of what he ate so long as it was fresh and warm. He quickly ate, nearly burning his tongue in his desperation. He put the plate back down on the bedside when he cleaned it completely, wrapping himself in the blankets. He remembered the Sheriff's words last night, and hoped they weren't just reassuring lies. _The nurse said he was coming soon, right?_

The sensation of being full, warm, and dry was something he became unfamiliar with for the time he had run away from home. He let himself relax in the bed, dozing off and recovering as much as he could. All he could do was wait for the Sheriff to come back in. 

He didn't realize when he had fallen asleep, slowly sitting up and looking around. _What time was it by now?_ He saw the sunlight brightly shining through the closed curtains, _was it noon already?_ He still didn't want to move, but the sinking dread was inescapable. _The nurse wouldn't have lied, would she? Would the Sheriff? Where am I supposed to go now?_

He got up from the bed, keeping blankets wrapped around him as he walked over to the door. The door swung open quickly, and Michael was surprised by Leigh Brackett nearly running into him. 

“Michael! You should be resting. I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up a lot.”

He gave a small smile after hesitating, turning to get back into the bed. He blinked at the people behind Brackett. 

“Michael, I'd like you to meet my wife, Joanne, and my daughter, Annie.”

He looked over to the two of them, noticing that Annie couldn't have been older than 11. She waved at him from behind her mother, Michael waving back from his blanket wrap. 

“Leigh told me a little bit about you. Are you feeling okay?” 

He slowly nodded, but the action made her press the back of her hand to his forehead. She was deeply concerned, saying nothing more as the Doctor walked in. 

“Mr. Brackett, could I speak with you and your wife?” 

Leigh turned around and nodded. 

“Yeah, absolutely. Annie, stay here, okay?” 

Annie nodded, watching her parents walk out and leave her in the room. There was a mutual silence between them, before Annie sat down in the nearby chair and patted her legs to a rhythm. 

“Do you talk much?” 

She looked over to him curiously, watching him shake his head. He couldn't help a coughing fit, covering his mouth with the sleeve of the shirt he wore. 

“Are you sick?”

He nodded once the fit ended, leaning against the pillows. 

“Daddy says you're going to be living with us soon, is that true?”

He blinked in surprise, giving a small shrug. She seemed to quickly catch on to his uncertainty. 

“If you do, I could share some of my stuffed animals. They always make me feel better when I'm sick.” 

He smiled at her, already aware that he was going to get along well with her. The door suddenly opened, with Leigh and the Doctor walking back in with Joanne following shortly behind them. 

“Alright, you are clear to go, Michael. Mr. Brackett here will be your foster until adoption.” 

Michael nodded, turning his attention to Leigh and Joanne. 

“Alright, ready to get home?” 

He shed the layers of blankets he kept wrapped around himself, getting up with Leigh’s help. 

“Come on Annie, let’s head home.” 

Annie held Joanne’s hand, following them out as she kept her attention on Michael silently following beside Leigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small break from requests to post a little thing I was writing today on account of not feeling well.


	76. Not Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill mistakes Meg for Zoey.

It had been some time since Bill had raised the bridge, fighting with everything he had for the sake of his team. He had found himself in the Entity’s realm instead of dying peacefully, and quickly found himself protecting his newfound teammates from monstrous Killers. He had settled into the familiar role of protector, and he was more than happy to do it and keep fighting whatever threat came his way. 

He felt his heart skip a beat in a trial when he saw a pink outfit that was _all too familiar._ The sudden torrent of dread and fear was unmistakable. _No, it can’t be._ He had to know for sure. As he got closer to where he last saw her, he saw the distinct flash of pink, and recognized the silhouette of the person running as he felt time slow to a halt. 

_Not Zoey, not here._

He didn’t want her here, anywhere but here. Their home was torn to hell, infested with zombies, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to keep her safe, but he knew too well sometimes here, that wasn’t an option. People died in the Entity’s realm, in a never ending cycle of agony. _That can’t happen to her._

He felt his heartbeat pick up in pace as he got closer, dread filling every nerve of his body. _Not her, not here, I can’t let her get hurt. Not after everything I’ve done to keep her **safe.**_ He felt his heart jump to his throat when he heard her scream. Desperation and rage fueled him, injuries no longer mattered. He wouldn’t fail her, not now, _not ever._ With a swift, adrenaline-fueled leap onto the Killer, Bill swung and clawed at anything, blinded by rage. 

It didn’t take long for the Killer to shake him off, groaning at the pain inflicted by the soldier. As angry as Bill was, he was no idiot, and took the opportunity to run for it. He looked around frantically for Zoey, following the faint blood trail he noticed fading into the ground. 

“Zoey? Zoey, where the hell are ya, goddamn it!” 

He turned the corner and saw her holding her side, trying to stifle whines of pain. Meg blinked in confusion, tilting her head at Bill.

“Who’s Zoey?”

Bill’s heart sank like a stone in a lake, both out of disappointment and relief. He wanted to see her again, but not in a hell like this. 

“No one, kid. Where the hell did ya find those clothes?” 

“I just, found them with my stuff. I think the Entity gave us some new things.”

Bill sighed, taking makeshift bandages out of his jacket pocket. 

“Lemme get ya patched up.” 

Meg nodded, still entirely confused, but knowing Bill too well to press the question when he very clearly would not answer.


	77. Dutybound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tapp has an argument with Dwight, David doesn't appreciate how Tapp is speaking to his leader.

Even though he had failed to bring in Jigsaw for good, and had lost his job as an officer of the law, Detective Tapp still took his job as a police officer seriously. His goal was to protect the innocent, no matter what, and there would be nothing that would stop him from trying to achieve that goal. Even in the Entity’s realm, he made sure to keep an eye on the Killer, and help locate objectives and whatever might belong to the Killer to destroy them. 

He never failed to get annoyed when any of the other survivors insisted on being a distraction. It was the last thing he wanted to accept, that any of the survivors he found himself stuck here with would be hurt or worse. He refused to accept it, and would do anything he could to make sure he didn’t have to accept it. 

This trial wasn’t going as well as Tapp would have hoped. One person already down, and the remaining three were on their last hook. It was him, Dwight, and David, and the scrapper had walked off to try and track down the Killer. Tapp and Dwight worked silently on the last generator they needed, trying to finish it before the Killer showed their face again. 

The faint heartbeat made Tapp look up. The Killer wasn’t close yet, but it wouldn’t take long for that to change. He looked over to Dwight, who was already moving towards it. Tapp made sure to grab Dwight’s arm, not going to let him walk into danger. 

“Dwight, the hell are you doing?”

“I’ll keep him busy, you can finish the generator and get David out.”

“Not a fucking chance, Dwight.”

“Tapp, I know what I’m doing.”

“And I know it’s still my job to keep people safe.”

Dwight shook his head, taking his arm from Tapp. 

“It can’t always work that way. _Trust me, Tapp._ It’ll work out fine.”

Tapp grabbed Dwight’s arm again, this time tighter as Dwight let out a quiet yelp in surprise at the firm grip. 

“Tapp-”

“Dwight, let me handle the bastard.”

The heartbeat was racing faster as David sprinted from between the trees, forcing himself between Dwight and Tapp. His ire turned on Tapp.

“The fuck’s your problem, mate? We don’t have time to be going at each other, and you sure as hell don’t have any fuckin’ right to force Dwight around.” 

Tapp’s gaze focused on David. 

“I’m trying to stay away from _suicide missions._ I’m not gonna just let that fucker easily get someone else.” 

It was Dwight’s turn now to intervene, making space between the two. 

“Okay, we don’t need to fight.”

The fast pace of the heartbeat made them duck for nearest cover, Tapp keeping a keen eye on where the Trapper walked. He kicked the generator and looked around trees and rocks, and Tapp knew that he would soon find where David was trying to hide. He got up and ran from the generator, whistling to get the Trapper’s attention. 

Dwight and David watched Tapp run off with the Trapper after him, the latter groaning as he moved to help on the generator. 

“I’m still gonna kick his fuckin’ arse at the campfire.”


	78. Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request where Myers gets to keep Dwight.

Michael watched as the last survivor in the trial was lifted to the Entity’s limbs, all three before them having met the same fate. He was fueled by a rage unlike any other, being cheated of what was his. He was cheated by the Entity, but the Entity was the only decider of which survivors he saw in a trial. His confrontation with it didn’t go well the last time, after the trial where he offered the black tuft of hair to see his obsession. 

_‘You were not specific, I granted you the leader and the scrapper in a trial, did I not?’_

He could not argue, and he hated it. The only way he knew of earning the favor for another request was to appease the Entity, to let the rage fuel him into killing every survivor until he was given what he wanted. As the fog closed in and the walls of the trial disappeared, he heard a familiar, insidious whispering. 

_‘You’ve been doing well, Michael. I should reward you for your diligence.’_

The Entity always spoke so sweetly, like a parent talking to their child, when it praised him. It hardly ever scolded him, but when it did, it was like a vengeful lover that had been betrayed. As much as Michael wanted to hate it, it also granted him what he wanted if he did well. He waited quietly for the Entity to continue. 

_‘I will give you your obsession.’_

Michael knew better this time than to blindly accept. The small tilt of his head was all that was needed for the Entity to understand the question. 

_‘No tricks, Michael. You can keep him, as long as you wish, with no interferences. Is that what you desire?’_

Michael’s hand tightened around the blade of his knife. 

_‘No, not yet. Your revenge will come soon, I promise.’_

Michael hated the idea of not being able to show the scrapper that Dwight was _his and his alone_ , but this would have to do. 

_‘Kill the others, and you'll have what's yours. I do not care how.’_

Of course there was a catch to it all. But Michael was fine with that as he walked into the fog to another trial. 

 

Dwight tried to stay calm as he walked into the fog and saw it clear, revealing the police lights and houses of Lampkin Lane. Even if Michael wasn't the Killer, the street made him especially nervous. It didn't take him long to find Laurie, the woman sadly knew the area well. 

“I don't see them yet, but I can feel that whoever it is, isn't focused on me.” 

Dwight stiffened, knowing full well Laurie tended to be every Killers obsession, whether or not they truly cared. It was a strange bond she always shared, unless it was Michael in a trial with Dwight. He nodded once, walking over to the nearest generator. 

“Okay, be careful. Keep your eyes open.” 

Laurie nodded, kneeling to work on the generator beside the house in a worn down playground. Dwight looked around as he felt a chill run up his spine, spotting Meg running from Michael. _Why did it have to be him?!_

Dwight stayed on the generator, hoping that Michael wouldn't see him for now. Everyone knew that Michael was a Killer who bided his time, stalking them until his power reached its peak. It instilled a terror like no other, as evidenced by the pounding heartbeat and the threat of being killed much faster than normal. 

The sound of the generator activating lined up with the sudden fear both Dwight and Laurie felt, followed shortly after by Meg’s scream. Laurie looked over and caught a glimpse of Michael walking towards them. 

“We need to go, he's coming.” 

Dwight nodded, following closely behind Laurie. Dwight kept his attention careful around him, noticing that his heart kept a steady beat rather than grow faster. 

“He’s chasing someone else.” 

Almost on cue, Dwight and Laurie heard Jake’s scream of pain. It didn’t take long for both Jake and Meg to be put on a hook, leaving Dwight and Laurie to save them. 

“We need to split up, if he finds us together we’re both dead.” 

Laurie nodded at Dwight’s command, continuing on ahead while Dwight paused and waited, making sure it was safe to walk in the other direction. It terrified him to watch Michael accurately walk over to where they had just been. Something was guiding the obsessed lunatic, and Dwight had a sinking feeling that he would not enjoy it. He was able to sneak over to Meg undetected, while Laurie no doubt kept Michael busy.

Dwight waved Meg over to where Jake was, getting him off the hook and starting to work on patching Meg up first. Jake didn’t need to be told to what to do, silently doing what he could for the athlete. He crouched and let the other two heal him when Meg’s injuries were treated, standing up as they heard Laurie’s scream. Dwight turned his attention to the other two. 

“I’ll get her, you guys find a generator.”

Meg and Jake walked off, Meg far more eager to run to the nearest generator and start working right away while Jake took his time to stay undetected. Dwight retraced his path to stay out of Michael’s sight, heading to Laurie. He lifted her off the hook and start patching her up when they heard Meg scream, both of them able to clearly see the aura of Meg being held in the air and weakly flailing. 

Dwight stayed quiet as he led Laurie away after wrapping her shoulder up in makeshift bandages. Michael quickly found Jake, his scream echoing as the knife was driven into his chest. Dwight and Laurie were just able to get a generator running in the time Jake kept Michael busy, but now the Killer was surely going to come after them next. 

His heartbeat started to race, and he knew it was going to end badly. Michael immediately went after Laurie, grabbing her and lifting her by her neck. She took the glass shard in her pocket and stabbed it into his shoulder, making him drop her. Dwight tried to put himself between Michael and Laurie, instead feeling the knife plunge into his shoulder. Michael ignored him and went after Laurie, catching up and driving the knife into her chest several times. 

Michael let her limp body fall to the ground, watching for just a moment before turning his attention on his prize. The Entity hadn’t lied this time, even helping him find the other survivors and kill them. He was granted the ability to kill all of them, a minor satisfaction when he found that the scrapper wasn’t among them. He would worry about that later, as he had what he wanted so badly. 

He watched Dwight try to crawl away, fearful eyes widened and staring at him. It was endearing, in a way, and hardly surprising. Michael tilted his head, being surprised by the sudden jolt from Dwight as the survivor stood up and sprinted away. 

Dwight was not going to accept this end so quickly. He could find the hatch and escape, to avoid being grabbed and subjected to whatever torture Michael had in mind. Michael was getting closer and closer, and Dwight was nowhere near finding the hatch just yet. His closest hope was the Myers house, rounding the doorway and feeling his heart sink to his stomach when the pallet wasn’t there, already having been destroyed. 

Michael’s hand grabbed the back of Dwight’s neck, his grip firm and unrelenting. Dwight’s cry was soft and strangled as Michael readjusted himself in front of Dwight with his grip on the front of his throat. Dwight’s hands tried to get Michael's to loosen, in any attempt to free himself and run for it. 

Dwight felt incoming panic as Michael's fingers dug into his neck, cutting off air. _He's going to choke me to death!_ As uncharacteristic for Michael as it was, Dwight was not going to rule out any options. He refused to stop trying to free himself, even as black spots started to dance at the edges of his vision. 

Michael watched as the leader eventually fell limp, fearful and pained expression slipping into a peaceful one of unconsciousness. His grip around Dwight’s neck loosened, moving his hand to brush along the leader’s cheek. Something wasn’t quite right as the fog didn’t close in around him right away, and the Entity’s voice whispered in his ears. 

_‘Do not fret. You’ll get what you’ve been promised. You’ve more than proved yourself worthy of it.’_

Michael tilted his head. _There was one alive, but where?_ He held Dwight over his shoulders, walking out of the house to see the survivalist drop into the hatch in the middle of the street. Part of him was enraged that the survivalist was able to play dead, but that didn’t _matter_ when he had what he _really wanted._

The street of Haddonfield narrowed to only encompass the area in front of Michael’s home. He turned to walk back into the house that was now isolated to him and his obsession. 

 

Dwight blinked his eyes open, his head pounding under the bright light. He tried to sit up, finding that his hands were tied behind his back. He rolled onto his back and forced himself up, squinting as his eyes focused. His wrists were tied on top of each other, but the rope was far too tight for him to loosen it without the rope digging into his already sore wrists. 

“Guys.. this isn’t funny, come on.” 

_Some kind of practical joke, now?_ His shoulder and arm was numb after laying on it for who knows how long, noticing now that his legs were tightly tied together too. He groaned, blinking rapidly to clear the blurriness from his vision. 

“Seriously, you can untie me now, I’m awake.” 

Dwight turned his attention to the footsteps getting closer, dread slowly settling over him as he realized the footsteps were far too heavy to be any survivor’s, and that he wasn’t at the campfire like he initially thought. _No, not like this!_

Michael walked in the room, mask splattered with blood over his eye. Dwight backed away as much as he could as Michael came closer, his back hitting the wall. Michael knelt down beside him, and Dwight kept his eyes shut. He flinched at Michael’s touch on his cheek, trying to turn his head away. His breaths were shaky as he felt Michael’s hand through his hair, almost.. _Petting it?_

“L-Leave me alone!” 

Michael’s left hand moved to grab Dwight’s face, fingers pressing into his cheeks and the side of his neck, just under his jaw as Michael ignored Dwight’s plea. Michael leaned close to Dwight, his face just inches away from the leader’s. Dwight could clearly hear the breathing under the mask, muscles tensing in apprehension. He couldn’t help but feel _terrified_ , unsure of what Michael planned next. 

Michael leaned back and stood, walking out of the room and leaving Dwight tied up. He could feel the call of another trial, and he knew this time, his Dwight would still be there for him.


	79. Barely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake barely escapes, but Claudette's there to help him out.

_Play dead._

Jake had to muffle himself from screaming in sheer agony as Michael’s knife drove further into his chest, quickly being yanked out and then feeling himself thrown to the ground like an unwanted doll. He lay still, listening to Michael’s footsteps and the heart still pounding in his chest. He forced himself to crawl when Michael was far enough away, not caring where he crawled to so long as it was away from where he had been thrown aside. 

Jake winced at Laurie’s scream. This trial was going _awfully_ , and Jake’s main concern was surviving. He pressed his hand against his chest, trying not to scream in pain as he bled over the asphalt road underneath him. He wouldn't give up so easily, crawling forward despite the agonizing pain. He didn't hear Dwight’s scream, but his attention was drawn to the hatch that opened up not far from him. 

He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't do anything about it now. Michael would simply come back and kill him when he realized that Jake wasn't dead. Jake dragged himself to the hatch, falling in just as Michael walked out of the house. 

He felt himself fall through air for a few moments before hitting solid ground. He struggled to his feet, shaky and uncertain of his balance. Getting back to the campfire was his main priority now. He pushed himself through the pain, seeing the familiar light not too far from him. Before breaking out of the treeline, he turned to head to Claudette’s corner of the woods. _Even if she's not there, she's got a lot of supplies I can use._

Jake didn't know if it was better for her to be absent, part of him didn't want her to see him so injured, but there was hardly anyone more qualified to treat injuries. Claudette sat in the hammock organizing a medkit together when she looked up and saw Jake collapse to a knee, her expression turning to one of horror. 

“Oh my God! Jake, what happened? Sit down, I'll grab my best supplies.” 

She jumped out of the hammock and frantically gathering her things while Jake shifted to sit against the nearest tree. His head leaned back against the bark while he took deep breaths. Claudette sat next to him, noticing how bloody his hands and chest were. 

“I'm going to take your jacket and shirt off, okay?”

Jake nodded, pushing himself off the tree to let Claudette easily take his shirt off. He leaned against the tree again as everything around him started spinning. 

“Okay, I’m going to lay you down, alright?” 

He dumbly nodded, feeling Claudette gently move him to lay on the ground. She pressed her hands against his chest, biting her lip when he flinched and cried softly in pain. 

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

Jake grit his teeth together, digging his nails into the dirt underneath him in an attempt to keep himself from moving too much. Claudette took a small bottle out of the medkit, uncorking it and scooping the green paste inside onto her finger. 

“This will sting at first, I’m so sorry.” 

Jake tensed when he felt the cool paste and the sudden stinging from the wound on his chest, before it quickly went numb. He relaxed and took deep, exhausted breaths. Claudette wrapped bandages around his chest, gently lifting him to wrap it around his back and entirely around his torso. He was lightheaded from the sheer amount of blood loss, staying limp and trying to rest. 

He felt Claudette shift closer, her hand gently brushing hair out of his face along his forehead. 

“I’m okay, ‘Dette.” 

Jake hated how tired he sounded, wanting to reassure Claudette that he was fine. He felt her shift again and lay next to him, her head resting on his upper arm. 

“I just worry about you.” 

She wrapped her other arm around his stomach. Jake let out a relieved sigh, closing his eyes and relaxing with Claudette next to him. He didn’t need to say anything else as they both drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This request is a tiny bit out of order in my list, but the idea for it was too good to not post. This takes place right after the Dwight/Myers piece!


	80. So Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Dwight try to escape for good.

Dwight had to adjust his vision to the darkness around him. Trials always tended to be the same, but lately they were.. Different. The areas became more and more simple, differences fading with each trial. The survivors were surviving more and more, the more unwilling Killers simply letting them go, and more determined Killers finding their abilities weakening. Dwight still feared failing, especially with how easy it was getting to survive. He noticed his injuries staying consistently longer, his ability to simply sense the other survivors failing, and knew that the Entity’s ability to maintain it’s weird realm was failing. 

They were so close to escape, yet the pressure seemed to mount higher and higher. This trial seemed to be near pitch black, with no moon in the sky or stars to guide their way. Dwight had to keep himself from yelping when he bumped into someone else, _praying_ it was a friendlier Killer like The Wraith. 

“Dwight, you okay?”

Jake’s voice made Dwight sigh in relief. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just... can’t see.”

“Neither can I. Stick close to me.” 

Dwight nodded once, staying close by to Jake as the survivalist took careful, premeditated steps in the darkness. _Something feels wrong._

“MOVE!” 

Dwight was suddenly pushed forward, nearly falling to the ground. He turned around with a jolt when he heard Jake cry in pain, only barely seeing the off-white of an expressionless mask. He scrambled to action, running as far as he could. _Stupid! He’s going to get himself killed for good!_

Dwight couldn’t see any of the telltale signs of any generators, and the walls seemed to… move? He looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing close to him. Michael was probably chasing after Jake, then. Dwight took the opportunity to investigate the familiar brick wall, jumping backwards when it moved under his touch. He quickly started to move bricks away, part of the wall collapsing away to reveal misty forests beyond. 

_Generators weren’t needed to escape!_ Dwight just had to find Jake, and they could make it. They were _so close!_

Jake bit down hard on the scarf, keeping himself quiet. He didn’t need any further prompting to know that the Entity was failing, and the gash on his shoulder was very real and very painful. If he was caught now, he was as good as dead. As the Entity’s power slipped, it became harder and harder to actually tell where the Killer was, but Jake was far too skilled at keeping himself from being wiped from existence in any normal setting, human killer or not, to be found so easily. The crows that rested near him didn’t have the faint, glowing red eyes he was used to seeing. _Didn’t he recognize some of these crows?_

The sound of footsteps interrupted him. _Stay still, don’t move. Don’t let him find you and erase you._ Jake stayed still and quiet, even as blood poured down his coat. This time, he knew, he could actually stifle the flow enough to not bleed in a crimson trail, all too easy to follow. He didn’t need to see the tall figure at all to know when Michael walked away from him, not wasting any time in trying to find a target that would take far too long to find. 

He needed to find Dwight. He hoped the leader was alright and staying hidden from Michael. Jake was accustomed to surviving on his own, years of practice at his side. As skilled as they all had become in the trials, Dwight was not as naturally silent as Jake was. Jake moved to the wall for support, nearly falling when it didn’t support his weight at all. 

He could easily move the wall aside and head into the fog if he wanted. _Does Dwight know, too?_ As much as his shoulder hurt, he wasn’t going to leave just yet. The crows still seemed unafraid, and a sudden idea hit him. 

“Hey. Go find Dwight. My height, blood covered shirt, tie, glasses.” 

The bird seemed to tilt its head as it listened, before squawking and flying off. It stayed clear in his sight, before circling overhead something in the distance. _Good bird._ He quietly walked towards it. He froze when he saw overalls again, just barely in the darkness. _He better not have found Dwight._

His heart leapt to his throat when he heard Dwight’s cry of pain. He wasted no time in running towards it, desperate to escape together. Jake clearly spotted the multicolored tie, eyes quickly adjusted to night. He grabbed Dwight’s hand and ran, dragging the other along towards the wall. He had to ignore the heart wrenching whine, in favor of running further away from the Killer. He ran through the wall itself, bricks clearly disappearing from sight. He didn't dare look back, it would waste time running. 

In the thick fog of the forest, Jake allowed himself to slow down. Dwight struggled to catch his breath, leaning against a tree. 

“Are you hurt?” 

“I-”

_Snap!_

The sudden snap of a tree branch interrupted them, making them listen closely to the footsteps approaching. Dwight knew they were too heavy to be any survivor. 

“Jake!” 

Jake didn't need any more hints than the soft whine, grabbing Dwight’s hand again and leading him through the maze of trees. Whether it was Michael or a different killer didn't matter. When Dwight started to lag behind, Jake made sure to keep Dwight in front of him. It was impossible to clearly tell, but Jake was sure he saw fresh blood on Dwight’s shirt. _No time to worry now, unless we both want to die._

The fog clearing was the only indication that they were still moving. He wasn't sure if there were still footsteps behind him, but Jake didn't take chances like that. 

Suddenly, the treeline broke from it's monotony and the sun harshly shined down on them. Jake stopped now to catch his breath, looking back to the forest and seeing a familiar, homely forest he knew he could navigate. _Where did all of the fog go?_ He turned and took several steps forward, in pure disbelief. He couldn't help the growing grin. 

“We actually escaped. Dwight, we-”

_THUD._

Jake turned around in an instant, joy being overridden by fear when he saw Dwight limp on the ground. 

“Dwight!?”

Dwight was struggling to breathe, pale from what Jake could only assume was blood loss. Crimson pooled underneath them, pouring from his shoulder. Jake tore the shirt away, wincing at the deep cut dangerously close to his neck. _How much blood has he lost so far? I don't have time._ He took his scarf off quickly, holding Dwight in his arms as he pressed the fabric to the gash. He hated the way Dwight winced and weakly cried out in pain. 

“Just hold on, we're going to be fine.” 

Dwight’s eyes fluttered, trying desperately to stay open. 

“J-Jake, I'm… sorry...”

 _No! Not here, not when they were so close!_

“Save your strength, Dwight.” 

Jake had to stay composed, or at least seem that way, for both of them. If he panicked now, it would only make Dwight worse. 

“J-Jake, p-please.. I-I’m sorry… I let you down..”

“Dwight, stop talking. You’ll be fine, we’ll get help.” 

He pressed his hand harder against the wound, feeling Dwight shudder. 

“Just hold on, Dwight. Please.” 

Dwight’s head lolled back, strength quickly fading. _This can’t be happening now!_

“Dwight, listen to me. Just focus on me and my voice.” 

The sudden pang of fear shot through his core when Dwight’s eyes closed and he fell limp. 

“Dwight! Come on, just hold on a little longer! DWIGHT!” 

He couldn’t hold back tears any longer as he slipped a glove off and held his other hand in front of Dwight’s mouth, feeling nothing at all. Guilt, anger, and sadness crashed down on him. _I shouldn’t have left him alone! This is my fault. No, it’s **his** fault. But Dwight’s still gone, for good._

He couldn’t bear to look up to the warmth of the sun, instead holding Dwight’s body close as tears openly fell down his face. _They had gotten so close, and it still fell apart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request to hopefully make some tears flow ;) and also, that new survivor and Killer! They look good :D


	81. Calm Presence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake has a calm presence, which David secretly enjoys.

David sat at the campfire taking deep, irritated breaths. It wasn’t hard to get on David’s nerves, especially in trials where the Killer ignored him and hurt the people he was trying to protect. He tried to take his anger out in other ways, avoiding fights with the other survivors. Instead, he’d take tree branches from the forest around them and snap the branches, throwing small pieces into the fire. 

Jake quietly walked out of the woods towards the burning fire, bandages wrapped around injuries from sharp claws. He had still lived, thanks to his sabotaging hooks and being helped by David whenever possible. He was well aware it could have been worse, and would have been, if not for David quite literally blocking the Hag from getting to him and lunging at his throat. 

He wordlessly sat down next to David, keenly aware that the scrapper’s habits were from anger. He watched the branches get snapped roughly, then be thrown into the fire. If David was aware of Jake’s presence, he didn’t acknowledge it. 

“Hey.” 

David paused to look over when Jake spoke. 

“Hey.” 

Jake heard the irritation in David’s voice clearly. 

“David, I’m-”

“You still got hurt, and that fuckin’ bitch wouldn’t give me the time of day. I can’t do my fuckin’ job if they don’t even look at me and ignore me to hurt everybody else.” 

_Snap._ Jake took a deep breath. 

“David, you still got in her way and saved me from getting my throat torn out. That still counts for something.” 

David pushed the branches aside, looking over to Jake. 

“And that shouldn’t have fuckin’ been so fuckin’ close in the first place!” 

Jake didn’t flinch in the face of David shouting, watching David groan in annoyance. 

“I just need to cool off a little. Shit’s got me riled up, and I don’t wanna snap at anyone.” 

Jake nodded once, sitting still for a moment before shifting to sit closer to David and lean against him. David was at first surprised, letting out a sigh before shifting his arm to wrap around Jake. 

“Motherfucker.” 

Jake grinned, letting his eyes close and rest. David still didn’t quite understand how Jake’s presence was always able to keep him calm, but he wouldn’t question it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a lot of delay on my writing stuff! I've been trying to keep myself consistent but have ended up writing a lot of self indulgent things I probably won't post for a good while if at all to help myself feel better. But I promise, I'm still working on this and the Escaped AU stuff!


	82. Fuzzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin gets much needed rest, and Jake is there to talk when he wakes up.

Quentin was well accustomed to a constant sense of exhaustion. He took any moment to rest he could, staying wary of falling asleep and finding himself in another nightmare of Freddy’s creation. While he hadn’t dealt with any nightmares at the campfire for countless trials, he wasn’t going to take any risks. Not when the others needed him to be focused and prepared for every test of life and death. The aches of being hooked and sacrificed was starting to become just as normal for him as insomnia was. He sat against one of the logs by the fire, staring mindlessly into it as he dozed off. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he startled himself awake. _Did I fall asleep? For how long?_ He knew the others wouldn’t want to disturb him much at all if he ever fell asleep, trying to let him get as much rest as he could. He moved to get up, feeling something incredibly fuzzy around him. 

Jake’s jacket was not something he expected to find draped on his shoulders. Jake himself wasn’t too far away, and Quentin quickly noticed the way he cradled his arm. He gently shook the survivalist, making sure not to accidentally hurt him more. 

“Hey, Jake, wake up. Are you hurt badly?”

Jake blinked his eyes open, shifting to sit up. 

“No, it’s nothing bad. It’ll heal by itself.” 

Quentin rubbed his eyes, looking around at the near empty campfire. 

“How long was I sleeping?” 

Jake shrugged. 

“Don’t know. I got back and you were sleeping soundly. Thought I’d just take a nap, too.” 

“And the jacket?” 

“Thought you’d need it more than me.” 

Quentin shook his head, taking the jacket off and handing it back to Jake. Jake pushed it back to Quentin. 

“I don’t need it. Keep it.” 

Quentin sighed, knowing this wasn’t a battle he was going to win. 

“At least let me patch you up, then.” 

Jake handed a medkit over to Quentin, turning to show the deep gash on his arm. Quentin blinked at the wound, looking up to Jake. 

“This isn’t bad?”

“For me, no.” 

Another sigh, this time one in genuine annoyance came out of Quentin’s mouth. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” 

“Nope.” 

Quentin took a deep breath, bandaging the gash after cleaning it up. When he finished up, Jake simply rolled his shoulder. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem. And, thanks for letting me keep the jacket.” 

Jake stood, patting Quentin’s shoulder. 

“It suits you.” 

Quentin blinked in surprise. _What is that supposed to mean?_ He hid himself in the jacket in order to hide the redness of his cheeks. 

“Still, thanks.” 

Jake laughed quietly, ruffling Quentin’s hair and walking off into the woods. Quentin settled back against the log, zipping the jacket up and letting himself doze off again in it’s warmth.


	83. Soft Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nea has a soft moment.

Nea didn’t usually lay back and relax after strenuous series of trials. She found more than enough comfort being a pain in the ass to the Entity, marking every tree she could find and hunting down the Killer’s homes just to create trouble. It was always her way of showing the Entity she wouldn’t stop rebelling against its rules, doing what she wanted instead of what it wanted. 

This time, however, she felt completely _exhausted_. She wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, but at the same time she knew it would lead to more of the Entity’s creations, as sleeping more often than not made her encounter the bloodweb. She didn’t want to deal with anything of the Entity’s if she could help it, not right now. 

She idled her time in a corner of the woods, secluded enough from the campfire to enjoy her own peace and quiet. The other survivors were just so loud sometimes, and she needed to keep her distance before she went insane. If the circumstances were different, Nea knew she’d be able to find herself enjoying the solace. 

A gentle chirp interrupted her, and she looked up to find one of Jake’s crows staring down at her, not one of the Entity’s spies. She couldn’t help but shake her head with an amused grin. 

“Get outta here, bird.” 

The bird squawked at her, flying down to land in front of her. 

“Go, shoo! I know you can understand me.” 

Despite her waving at it to tell it to leave, the crow instead hopped closer, almost curious. She took a deep breath, leaning her head back against the tree. 

“Alright, fine, you can stay. Just don’t bite me, okay?” 

The bird squawked again, wandering closely beside her as she settled back in to relaxing. She jumped when she felt the bird’s feet on her leg, attention focusing on it as it settled in to lay down on her upper leg. 

“Hey, I didn’t agree to this.” 

Despite her protest, the bird didn’t seem keen on moving. Nea could only sigh, then shrugged slightly. _Oh, what the hell._ She picked the crow up and gently cradled it in one arm, gently petting it’s head with her other hand. It was quickly lulled to sleep, comfortable in Nea’s grip. A small smile grew on her face at seeing the animal so content. _No wonder Jake spends so much time with these things._

She leaned back further against the tree to let the bird rest on her chest to not drop it ungraciously as she dozed off, still aware of her surroundings, but far too relaxed to want to go anywhere anytime soon.


	84. Snared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killer!Jake encounters Dwight again.

Jake was incredibly defensive of his corner of the Entity’s realm, the cabin he spent his time when not in a trial. It was why he ended up with several traps of his own design, ones far more elaborate and undetectable than the Trapper’s or Hag’s. He was never allowed to bring such traps into actual trials, but outside of them, his realm was his, and nothing would change that. He was most proud of the snare traps he made, traps that when tripped, would wrap rope tightly around the victims leg and leave them hanging from tree tops. The rope was always adorned with sharp metal, if only to prove a point of watching where one stepped. 

He took any moment to rest to seclude himself in his realm, enjoying the solitude. No expectations, no obligations to talk to anybody or go where he doesn’t want to. It’s almost nice, but was always over too soon. He opted for now to sit in the upper reaches of the many trees that surrounded his cabin. He let himself relax, falling into a comfortable rhythm of breaths as he listened to the environment. 

The sudden shout caught his attention. He knew well that one of his snares had gone off on some careless idiot wandering too close to his home. He got up and moved quickly, heading towards the trap. He knew every single trap’s location by heart, and knew exactly where to go. 

Dwight knew it was stupid to wander so far from the campfire. He had meant to come back as soon as he could, but had gotten himself lost again and ended up in the wrong place, hanging upside down by his leg. The metal fragments digging into his leg made blood trickle, and despite how much it hurt, he knew he had to free himself and leave as soon as he could. He bit his lip and yanked one of the metal shards out, using it to cut the rope. It was a slow and steady process, but eventually his weight was too much for the rope. 

He yelped when he hit the ground, feeling the air being knocked out of his lungs. He turned himself onto his stomach, coughing and slowly pushing himself to his feet. _I need to leave, I can’t stay here any longer._ Every moment away from the campfire was another second any Killer had to close in on him. He winced putting pressure on his right leg, leaving a noticeable trail of red. 

He immediately ducked into the bushes of the forest, trying to head in any direction that was away from the maze of traps. He had to ignore the pain of the small, but deep cuts. There would be time at the fire to tend to his wounds, he couldn’t stop now. Especially when he swore he heard the sound of a chain rattling. 

Jake swung the hook he used to grapple survivors idly, eyes scanning for movement in the bushes. He was far too observant to miss any fine detail, and patience won out when he saw the leaves rustle. The hook was flung forward, landing around his target’s leg when he heard a scream and promptly tugged, feeling the weight that belonged to the survivor. 

Dwight tried to grab at the ground to prevent himself from being pulled. _Stupid! I shouldn’t have even been here!_ He winced when he was dragged out into the open, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. He knew too well which Killer used a hook as a weapon, and he knew he would never stop blaming himself for not being enough to stop the survivors from losing one of their own. He braced himself for whatever pain Jake wanted to inflict on him, simply praying for it to be over as soon as possible. 

Jake simply stood and stared at Dwight, leg bleeding from the trap and the hook that dug into his leg and had him fully trapped. There was nowhere the leader could go without Jake being in control of it. Nothing urged him now to kill and sacrifice, no whispering in his ears that filled him with an insatiable bloodlust. He picked Dwight up and carried him over his shoulder, heading back to the cabin he maintained. 

Dwight didn’t struggle at all, either too resigned or too pained. Jake didn’t care to figure out which reason Dwight went with, but it made the process of carrying him far easier than it might’ve been. He nearly didn’t need to see to know where he was going, heading right to the small room he rested in. 

Dwight didn’t dare move or struggle. Sometimes, he knew, the Killers were nicer if he didn’t. Normal rules of a trial didn’t apply, and wiggling free would be near impossible. He wasn’t entirely surprised when he was set down; most Killers didn’t sacrifice of their own choice. Some were far more sadistic than the Entity allowed. Just let this be over. 

He was surprised when the hook in his leg was delicately removed, any small shards of metal expertly taken out. He had averted his gaze, bracing himself for excruciating pain. He slowly looked over to Jake, still intimidated by his appearance, but aware that Jake was taking great care to be gentle. 

“Stay put.” 

Jake’s voice was so much more hoarse, and much deeper than he remembered. He simply nodded as Jake turned to walk out, leaving Dwight in silence. His leg still bled onto the sheets of the bed, but he figured it was fine. _He wouldn’t have left me bleeding if he wasn’t fine with it, right?_

The sounds of fast approaching footsteps startled him, Jake returning with bandages in his hands. He didn’t dare speak as Jake bandaged his leg, afraid to say the wrong thing and ruin the temporary peace. He couldn’t help but tense as Jake moved to sit on the bed with him and pull him closer. 

“What are you doing?” 

He frowned at the silence that was only interrupted by his pounding heart. 

“Jake, I’m-”

“Don’t.” 

The apology was quickly cut off. Dwight didn’t need to hear anything else to know that Jake didn’t want to talk, instead silently being close to the leader. He tried to relax as much as he could, even while knowing Jake could kill him at any point if he so chose. But for now, he’d enjoy it as much as possible.


	85. Head to Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some classic slashers go head to head and fight over Quentin.

It had been some time since Michael last saw Quentin Smith in a trial. Whether on purpose or by chance, the dreamwalker was never one of the four survivors he had to kill. Jealousy and rage always surged at the thought of another Killer murdering him, especially the Nightmare himself. Freddy Krueger had an _irritating_ penchant for bragging, and Michael wanted nothing more than to cut that grin off his face, but with the Entity’s influence involved, it was a tricky thing to try. That, and Freddy made it clear that death was never a concern for him, even before. 

_Annoying._ Michael didn’t need to brag, he didn’t need to make himself seem more superior. He had his goals, and worked towards them, simple as that. He was starting to spend more and more time watching Freddy carefully, how he acted and spoke, in an attempt to understand why he despised Quentin so much. The Entity’s fervent whispering in his ears gave him bits and pieces of information, that he was able to piece together. _Disgusting._

He didn’t need to be asleep to see Freddy, or to see how absolutely obsessed he was. When Freddy started walking into the fog, the creeping urge to follow him rose, and Michael quietly followed behind. 

Quentin hardly ever went into the woods if he didn’t have to go to a trial. He never wanted to waver against Freddy, still seeking any way he could end the nightmare for good. Rest was almost always beyond him, not when a single second of carelessness could be all it took to fall apart. Coming back from a trial should’ve been simple, yet the fog never cleared around him. _Something’s wrong._

The fog around him was thick, with what he swore were sparks of fire falling from the sky. He immediately turned to face Freddy, eyes narrowed. 

“You’ve got nowhere to run this time, Quentin. I think it’s well past time you were taught a little lesson about learning to shut up and die.”

Freddy lunged forward with unprecedented speed, metal claws raking through Quentin’s arms as the other shielded his face. Claws raked back across his stomach, making Quentin stagger backwards. He knew he needed a plan, and fast, yet there was nothing he could use around him. A branch would hardly deter a slash from those claws. He winced when he was slammed against the tree, claws digging into his face to hold his head firmly. 

Before Freddy could speak, Quentin saw the glint of a kitchen knife as it slammed into Freddy’s shoulder and he was torn away. Quentin couldn’t help cry in pain as the claws dragged along his face and blood started streaming down. He knew he should run, yet every muscle felt so unbelievably heavy. Michael and Freddy now stared each other down, Freddy brushing his shoulder off. 

Freddy grit his teeth, readying himself to strike with his claws. 

“I don’t think so, Mikey boy. You get to have your obsession, I have to settle for second-best, and you’re not going to take this pleasure from me.” 

Michael didn’t waste any time with talking, instead pacing forward with his kitchen knife ready. Freddy was easily able to avoid the first slash of the knife, retaliating with a rake of claws across Michael’s dominant arm. Another swing fell short, just as another slash of claws did when Michael reacted, heat rising to his face underneath the mask. The knife plunged into Freddy’s arm, making him groan in pain. Despite the wound, Freddy sank claws into Michael’s midsection, not going down without a fight. 

Quentin watched the two fight, powerful swings and stabs going between them. He was sure that being hit with one of those blows would hurt, and yet neither was backing down just yet. He clearly saw how Freddy’s legs were starting to buckle, and how Michael’s movements were becoming more and more sluggish. Freddy had to rely on quick strikes, making ribbons out of the coveralls that Michael wore. 

Yet, Michael surpassed Freddy in brute strength, and made his point clear by finally grabbing hold of Freddy’s collar and throwing him carelessly into a far tree. Freddy slowly got to his feet, glaring at Michael. 

“This isn’t over, Myers.” 

The fog started to fade as Freddy did, no singing traces to warn Quentin that he was still in danger. His legs still felt like jello, but he could at least get himself standing. Michael turned to look at Quentin, head tilting slightly. 

“...Why did you even help me?”

Quentin knew the question wouldn’t get a vocal answer. Michael was never one to talk. He was aware of how the grip on the handle of the knife loosened, making Quentin think that Michael didn’t want to stab him just yet. He only wished he could interpret what the tilt of Michael’s head meant. 

“Well… whatever the reason, thanks.” 

Michael straightened, taking a deep breath as he held out torn cloth to Quentin. His clothes would be fine when he headed back to his corner of the Entity’s realm, and hoped the gesture would be taken well. Quentin narrowed his eyes skeptically, slowly and cautiously walking closer. He grabbed the cloth quickly and took several steps back, clearly wary of being caught off guard. Michael didn’t make any attempt to move, watching Quentin press the cloth to his bleeding stomach. _Good._

Quentin turned and left without another word, clearly heading back to the safety of the campfire. It wasn’t much progress, but it was at least something, and Michael was a very patient and determined man. It would only take time.


	86. Delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Nurse/Dwight interaction!

Delicacy was a trait that was often rare in the Entity’s realm. Stress and desperation made for tension and bluntness, rather than any form of gentleness outside healing each other for fear of hurting their ally. Dwight always tried to find a balance between gentle and blunt, not wanting to be excessively cruel but also understanding the importance of teaching someone quickly. He knew too well that the Killers were anything but nice and sympathetic. 

Dwight felt the unmistakable pressure of leadership on his shoulders, and he still wasn’t quite sure how it happened. It started as a desperation to survive, despite everything, then quickly blossomed into guiding the others to faster escape and survival. It was Meg that initially called him Leader, and it had stuck since then. Anxiety never stopped eating at his core, but the determination to survive and help others survive made him far more firm than he could have ever imagined. 

It was why he often explored as far as he could, learning as much as possible about the hell they were stuck in. Every little fragment of knowledge could help in some small way, and possibly even help them escape. _Wishful thinking._ But that wasn’t going to stop Dwight anytime soon. As hopeless as everything seemed, he was not going to give up. 

The ward of the Asylum was a place that always had an unsettling feeling. He had heard whispers and read little bits and pieces of the history of different places, and only knew that the Asylum was a place for the most severe, and that the Nurse had snapped after being mistreated by its occupants. He wasn’t sure what he would uncover, and part of him feared it, but fear was an all too common feeling in his chest that wouldn’t make him stall or panic. 

The halls were eerily silent of any noise, even the floor underneath him didn’t make a sound, as if being hushed. It was the whispering that he heard from what he assumed were the individual rooms that put him on alert. He couldn’t tell what the whispers were saying, but he could tell that some were different. Some voices were older, and some sounded far too close to children for his liking. 

All at once, the whispering stopped, leaving Dwight in pure silence. He knew there was something going on, something that he should be afraid of if even the ghosts of the past were afraid. He looked around for a hiding spot, wedging himself into a pile of rubble and overturned beds. He bit his lip to keep himself from breathing too loudly to avoid being found. 

The Nurse always floated around, and this time was no different. He watched her slowly enter the room and look around, almost as if scanning for anything out of place. The normal terror radius was entirely gone, only a means to determine where the Killers were in trials. _The Entity’s idea of making things fair._ Instead, he heard his own heart beat clearly in his chest. 

He didn’t expect her to hold her left hand up as if she was going to blink, glowing wisps staying in her palm. He couldn’t help the short gasp and widening of his eyes when he heard the same whispering as before. He clamped his hand over his mouth, hoping that the Nurse didn’t hear him. His hopes were dashed as the Nurse turned her attention to the pile Dwight was hiding in, easily overturning it with her supernatural power. 

He quickly stood up and pressed his back to the wall, wide eyes staring at the Nurse. She made no effort to move just yet, but he knew too well how that could change in an instant. The wheezing she made didn’t seem any different than what Dwight was used to hearing, yet the Nurse’s hands remained lowered and unwilling to strike him. 

Instead, her hand was outstretched to him, wisps coalescing into an object. The item they formed looked to be barely solid, instead a constantly moving swirl of visible air. Dwight wasn’t sure what to think of it. He reached his hand out to try and touch it, only able to assume that the Nurse was trying to give the item to him. 

After he took it, the wisps in the Nurse’s hand appeared again, and she blinked into nothingness. Dwight wasn’t sure where she went, but he did know he wanted to leave before she came back with more murderous tendencies. He held the foggy air carefully in his palm, almost creeped out by how it moved and stayed in his grip. He jogged out of the Asylum, taking one last glance at the entrance. 

The whispering he heard started again, this time much closer. The air in his hand moved in time with the whispering, and Dwight realized then he was holding the breath of someone the Nurse had known and used for amplifying her power. The whispers he heard were soft, but actually decipherable. _Why would she give me something like this?_ He blinked at the breath in his hand, looking over his shoulder to the distant light that would lead him to the campfire. 

That could wait. Dwight had to explore and uncover the hidden secrets the voice was whispering to him, leading him to the Chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this one! Time got away from me. As a little update, I'm not taking requests for a bit until I can get to a lot of the ones I have currently. I don't want to keep people waiting for incredibly long times.


	87. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin and Nancy fight Freddy, like old times.

Quentin had gotten very used to the realm’s workings, constant new arrivals showing up at random and disappearing in the very next moment. He couldn’t ever find it in him to stop caring about the others, even if they weren’t as nice as they could be. He wasn’t going to leave people to themselves if there was something he could do to help.

He had gotten used to constant silence and very easily crossing the threshold of being asleep and awake. He focused now on organizing supplies in his medkit as he heard the rustling of bushes, figuring whoever it was would make their presence known quickly. 

“Quentin? Is that you?”

 _Nancy?_ His attention darted up to her, dread and fear overtaking every fiber of his being. He stood and raced over to her, praying this was a cruel joke or figment of his sleep deprived mind. 

“Nancy? How are you here?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t heard from you in months, I thought… he killed you.”

Quentin swallowed hard, eyes darting around as he tried to find words. 

“Nancy, I’m so sorry. I almost had him, I know I could’ve, but I… I was fine with this, he’s stuck here and couldn’t hurt you. _You can’t be here right now._ ” 

Panic quickly rose, suffocating his chest. Intense guilt and anger settled thickly in his stomach. _This can’t be happening. It can’t be._ Nancy stood stunned, shaking her head to clear away her shock. 

“Where even are we? What is this place?”

“It’s… we call it the Entity’s Realm. It makes us go against Killers and try to survive and escape. Even if we do die, we wake up back here and have to do it all over again.” 

He hated having to tell her the rules of this game, and he knew there would never be enough time to get used to her presence. The looming fog had a very real threat and chill to it, one that was all too familiar. _How can he be here now? We’re at the campfire!_

“Be careful. He’s around here somewhere.”

Quentin felt his heart racing, everything happening all at once. He made sure to hold Nancy’s hand tightly, steeling himself for the conflict sure to come soon. _I can’t fail her now._ His eyes closed for just a second too long, opening them again to see Freddy not far off. The campfire’s light was snuffed out, making Quentin narrow his eyes. _Something’s up._

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it, Nancy?”

Freddy’s voice made rage build and heat rise to his face. Neither he or Nancy made any attempt to speak. 

“Such a cold reunion. You didn’t miss me at all?”

“Go to hell.”

Quentin could hardly stand Freddy’s games before, but now there was so much more at stake. _Come on, Quentin! Find a crack in the nightmare!_

“We all know that won’t work, dear Quentin. I’ve waited far too long for this moment.”

He quickly glanced over to Nancy, noticing her gaze lingering on something in the distance for just a second. He followed her gaze to see a glint of metal. _It’ll work._ That was enough confirmation for him to know this was a twisted dream, only giving a small relief. The thought of Nancy on a hook was not one Quentin wanted to entertain. 

“Now, we can make this easy or difficult. I might be nice if you go with the easy option.” 

“Not a chance.” 

Quentin looked around as Nancy spoke up, trying to find anything he could use to elude Freddy again. 

“Fine then, we’ll do this the hard way. This time, you’re going to watch your little boyfriend die right in front of your eyes.” 

_Stall for time._ Nancy was forced away by a sudden arrival of black spikes, acting as a fence between them. He just had to give her time to come up with something to catch Freddy off guard. Freddy lunged quickly, and Quentin barely had time to step out of the slash. He kept scrambling out of the way, the distance getting shorter and shorter. 

Claws raked along his face and down his shoulder, making him cry in pain. He braced himself for another slash, instead hearing Freddy groan and metal connect to the back of his head. He took the opportunity to get up and rush over to Nancy, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Something in the distance flickered, catching Quentin’s attention. 

“Come on!”

He grabbed her hand and ran for the light of safety, Freddy close behind them. _I know we can make it before-_

“-ntin, wake up!”

He suddenly sat up, head nearly colliding with Jake’s. 

“What? Where’s Nancy? We were-”

“Calm down. You were sleeping, I came over when I heard you start shouting.” 

He shook his head to recollect himself. 

“I’m fine, but where is she?”

“Who, Nancy? She’s not here, Quentin.”

He fell into silence, taking a deep breath. 

“You wanna talk?”

It was rare for Jake to offer to talk, but Quentin figured he must’ve _really_ looked like he needed it. 

“I’m fine, really. Just tired.”

Jake shrugged as he stood. 

“Sure, if you wanna talk just come find me.”

Quentin nodded, watching Jake walk off. He rubbed his face and eyes, trying to determine whether or not it was all an elaborate dream. His face and shoulder still ached despite no injuries or blood. He leaned back against a tree, now trying to take his mind off of the intense feeling of loneliness and missing her.


	88. GGEZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feng and Jake are stuck in the basement.

Feng knew better than most that sometimes big risks were necessary in order to succeed. She was no stranger to hard work and dedication, nor was she any stranger to greedy plays to come out on top. It wasn’t uncommon to hear fans and teammates alike stunned at how she always managed to get away with risky decisions unscathed. She played to win then, and played to win now in the Entity’s realm, and she was not someone who was going to be stopped. 

That was how she ended up in the basement to loot the chest, happy to find engineer’s tools in the box. _Should be easy to get outta here and get out with the gens done._ They weren’t far from escape, and she had avoided the blades of the chainsaw at Leatherface’s hands with unparalleled agility. _Dumb Killer doesn’t know what he’s up against_

She nearly bumped into Jake when she reached the stairs leading up, opening her mouth to speak when he clapped his hand over her mouth and shushed her. The terror radius answered her question, the soft beating of the heart getting louder and louder. _Thanks for the sandbag, bitch._

They ducked behind a wall when the heartbeat pounded loudly, neither of them making a single sound or motion. They waited for what felt like minutes in the corner of the basement wall, the heartbeat not going away anytime soon. Feng looked at Jake with a scowl. _He knows we’re here, asshole!_ Jake caught on to her glare, simply shrugging in response. The chainsaw started revving, and Feng knew it was a matter of time before he came down the steps. 

_I can bait out the chainsaw no problem._ She ran up to the stairs to see Leatherface at the top of the stairs, standing her ground firmly until he came dashing down the stairs fast. 

“Watch it!” 

Jake’s voice surprised her, he always seemed more of the type to stay calm and wait in this sort of situation. She yelped when his arms grabbed her waist and lifted her out of the way, leaving Leatherface to bump into the wall. Jake ran up the stairs with Feng in his arms, despite her belated protests. 

“Put me down already!”

 _I can take care of myself!_ Jake didn’t put her down until he ducked behind rocks, staying alert for the Killer to come close. The terror radius was rapidly increasing in volume, and both of them knew it was far more important to stay quiet. Where Jake blended in well, Feng knew she stood out more with the blue of her jersey. 

Jake knew she stood out far too much, even with the blood coating her skin and clothes. Autohaven was not a place he tended to like, but he could at least blend in with rocks and crushed cars. When he saw the red stain not far off, he made sure that neither he or Feng would get spotted by covering her with his jacket. He felt the acidic glare still focused on him, and he was sure he’d get an earful later about babying her. _Capability means nothing if you’re dead._ He let out a sigh of relief when the last generator powered on, and Leatherface left to go find the one responsible. 

“The fuck, Jake?”

He stood up, shrugging casually. 

“Would you rather be on a hook?”

“No, but I can handle myself just fine. I don’t need to be treated like a damsel in distress!”

“If I was, I would’ve kept carrying you.”

She groaned, following him to the nearest door. She kept an alert eye out for Leatherface in the distance, not keen on being surprised again. 

“Thanks, though.”

Jake turned his attention to Feng over his shoulder, Feng crossing her arms at the shocked expression on his face.

“What’s your deal now?”

“Don’t think I’ve heard you say thanks to me before.”

“Yeah, well… It won’t happen often.”

She turned her attention away, eager to escape the trial and the lingering awkwardness that made itself as thick as the fog around them. 

“Don’t worry yourself too much about it. Would hate to see you get killed.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

He shrugged again as his response, waving to her when the gate finally managed to open. 

“You wanna go, or thinking of sticking around?”

“No way I’m staying, I’m not losing this toolbox.” 

He laughed quietly, calmly walking to the gate. She shook her head as she followed him into the fog and towards the campfire in the distance. 

“You know, you’re lucky that trial was easy.”

Jake looked over his shoulder again. 

“You are the most arrogant person I’ve ever known.”

“It’s called ‘confidence’, Jake.”

“Same difference.”

She rolled her eyes, stashing the toolbox in her things. Jake wandered to a seat on the log by the fire, still wondering just how he had grown to like her so much. He let out a deep breath, unaware of Feng’s lingering stare in his direction as she mindlessly sorted her things.


	89. Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to the Dwight/Myers drabbles, in which David goes to save Dwight and things don't go as planned.

Michael wasn’t sure how long exactly it had been since the Entity finally allowed him to have Dwight. The leader never quite seemed to fully adjust, always cautious even if he accepted his current position. He knew he should be happy, getting anything he wanted at the only cost of serving the Entity well, so why was there still such a strong weight of dissatisfaction? _It makes no sense._

David was still _so irritating_ , getting in the way at every possible moment. He sat in the small room Dwight was kept in, mindlessly staring at the Leader against the wall. Dwight purposely kept his gaze away from Michael, not wanting to accidentally set the Killer off. He didn’t know what was going through the other’s head, nor did he really want to know. 

_I wonder how the others are doing without me._ He kept his attention to his hands, wrists sore from tight bindings. More often than not, Michael stared and firmly moved his head around, as if her were a prize that had been won. The feeling made his skin crawl, and he hated every moment of it. 

David couldn’t help the constant rage in the pit of his stomach. Every trial against Michael always became a mission of simply making the silent Killer’s life absolute hell until he either died or escaped. Idling by the campfire only made him uneasy and itching to do _something_. When another group of four went out without him, he got to his feet and walked into the woods. It was too many trials to sit out, and he was determined now to find the Myers house or it’s owner; whichever came first. 

 

Dwight was relieved when Michael left, but also pained for his friends who had to face him. Trials were always far better than being held against his will. He had tried to escape several times before, the result always the same in being caught and more tightly secured. He felt distinctly like a pet, with an owner who had no idea how to take care of him. He learned to listen carefully for the footsteps coming up the stairs to brace himself for however Michael wanted to handle him, rough or not. 

David raced up the steps after checking downstairs, his eyes narrowing on the closed door. _Gotta be that one._ He wasted no time in rushing in, spotting Dwight in the corner of the small box with hands and feet tightly bound and his eyes closed. If it wasn’t for the quick, erratic breaths, David would’ve thought Dwight was sleeping. 

Dwight silently prayed that if he stayed still, Michael would leave him alone. _Please, go away already!_

“Oi, Dwight, you alright?”

He opened his eyes with a gasp, almost in disbelief. 

“David? I’m okay, but how are you here?”

“Doesn’t matter, ‘m gettin’ you outta here.”

David quickly but delicately untied the ropes, just in time to hear much heavier footsteps start walking up the stairs. 

_“David, you need to go-”_

“Not fuckin’ leavin’ you here with that fucker.”

Michael turned the corner and tightened his grip around the handle of his knife when he saw David in his house touching his things. It no longer mattered what Dwight did; David had his sole focus. He quickly paced towards the two, mindful of how David stayed between himself and Dwight. 

“Dwight, go!”

“Not without you!”

David narrowly avoided the grab, holding onto Dwight’s arm to guide him out of the room and down the stairs. Michael was close behind, finally grabbing the back of David’s collar and yanking him backwards. Dwight made it to the bottom of the stairs before turning around. 

“David!”

“Run, damn it!”

“I’m not-”

_“I mean it, Fairfield!”_

Michael had adjusted his grip on David, holding the scrapper by his throat instead. Dwight paused, still not willing to leave his close friend behind, but shook his head slightly and turned to run. David struggled in Michael’s grip, wildly kicking to try and free himself. Strong hands dug deeper into his throat, cutting off air. Michael’s head tilted slightly, watching how determined David struggled despite the futility. Obsessiveness surged, just as the desire to watch and keep him close did. 

Even while delirious, David tried resisting in any way he could. He was roughly thrown to the floor, coughing to try and get air back into his lungs. Michael slowed his pace, calmly walking over and waiting for several moments. He then held David’s arms behind his back, pinning him against the wall. 

“Fuck off, creepy freak.”

It was a struggle to speak, or even move, yet David persisted despite the pain shooting through his shoulders and back. Michael harshly slammed David’s head against the wall until he stopped struggling, making sure that the scrapper wasn’t dead yet. He carried the limp form to the same small room they were in before, making sure to very tightly tie David’s hands to prevent him from escaping. 

His original obsession may have gotten away, but somehow, that didn’t matter as much anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be starting up college again very soon, so I will try to update consistently but I can't make any promises.


	90. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original survivors get to meet themselves.

The Entity’s realm hardly ever made any clear sense, seemingly operating based on its own rules to the world. The survivors quickly adjusted to the strange rules, no matter how strange they were. Dwight tried to write every oddity down, to try and find a pattern in how things worked, yet the simplest explanation seemed to always be just because of the Entity’s strange and constantly changing ways of handling things. He sat by the fire, letting his thoughts wander aimlessly. _The others should be coming back soon._

He didn’t turn his head when he heard the rustling of bushes, instead watching the way the flames danced and burned the firewood. He knew too well how tired the trials made everybody, and how vital it was to simply rest without talking much. Every survivor had proved themselves familiar with trials, clothes coated in blood and gore. It was a grisly form of prestige, showing just how well they knew the Entity’s games. He took a deep breath, stretching himself out. 

“Uh, hello?”

He jumped at the sound of his own voice. He looked up and darted his attention over to the source of the sound, jumping to his feet at seeing _himself._ The other version of himself was just as surprised, if not even moreso, every muscle tense and ready to run. Dwight noticed the other’s clothes were extremely clean, reminding him of when he first came to the Entity’s realm. 

“Who are you?”

He tilted his head as he spoke, trying to understand just what was going on. 

“Dwight. Who… who are you?”

“Dwight.”

They stood in pure silence staring until the bushes rustled again. Meg ran out of the bushes to the campfire, followed closely by _another Meg._

“Hey Dwight! ...Dwights? Oh god, this is confusing.”

“You’re telling me, Meg.” 

The Meg that Dwight knew well stretched her legs, numb to the fact that they were coated in blood. The other, just as clean as the other Dwight, seemed much more confused. 

“So wait, if we have doubles now, does that mean Claudette and Jake do too? Or, even everybody else, now that I think about it.”

“...Probably? Who knows where they are though.”

Dwight’s head was already starting to spin. _I don’t know if I can handle seeing two Claudette’s and two Jake’s, let alone two versions of everyone else._

“So… what are we supposed to do?” 

Dwight glanced his attention over to the other version of himself, shrugging slightly. 

“You know, I really have no idea. I didn’t exactly… expect this.”

Meg couldn’t help but laugh, exaggerating a shrug. 

“Who knows what you can expect around here?”

Claudette calmly walked out of the woods with a bundle of plants in her arms, opening her mouth to speak before she looked at the campfire’s gathering and stopped. 

“Uhm…”

“Hey Claudie, did you find another you too?”

“I… Yeah, I see I’m not the only one?”

Dwight sighed, rubbing his face. 

“I don’t know how to take this.” 

As if on cue, the distinct call of a trial beckoned to the non blood-covered versions, taking them out of stunned silence. 

“I think that’s as good of a cue to go, so… later?”

The other Meg waved, taking Dwight’s arm and gently dragging him to the woods. There was awkward silence, until Jake tiredly walked out of the woods. 

“Am I high, or did everyone else see themselves too?”

“I’d think I’d be more okay with that if we were all just really high.”

Dwight let himself lay down beside the fire, closing his eyes to try and process everything that just happened.


	91. Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feng has a bad trial and the Huntress doesn't wanna end it so soon.

Feng _hated_ doing poorly. Every trial felt like a reflection her own skill, each one was a game to win and escape from. Avoiding death time and time again only proved that she was the best at anything she did. It was always her goal to survive, and gain as many points as she could; utilizing the strange way the Entity operated to judge herself on her trials. _More bloodpoints, better trial._ She always prided herself on better and better performances.

 _Yet_ , there were always the trials where _everything_ just went wrong. Not even a _minute_ into the trial, and there was already someone stuck in the basement. Huntress on Haddonfield should have been a relatively easy trial, with all the houses and hallways someone could loop around. Feng was even more annoyed when the second person got hung in the basement, trying to make a save while she was still too close. 

_Idiots._ Feng knew she was too close to get up and run from away the house with the basement in it, hoping that the Huntress would leave and she’d be able to save the two stuck on hooks. She had tried to wave the third person to stop before running down into the basement, rubbing her face when the Huntress came back with a vengeance. Even though one person had been saved off the hook, it didn’t take long for the Huntress to pick them up and avoid the bright light of the flashlight. 

_Three in the basement, and no gens done._ She could see their auras on the hooks, very quickly trying to get themselves free or giving up. _Are you kidding me?_ When the Huntress passed by her, Feng got up and took a deep breath. _Might as well try._

Anna rarely felt disappointed with trials, the thrill of the hunt usually being enough excitement and satisfaction to make herself feel almost at home. Yet with three survivors dead at the very beginning of the hunt, she couldn’t find anything satisfying about the hunt. _No challenge, no chase!_ The Entity, she knew, would be happy with such swift kills, and getting a majority of the survivors already. _Find the last one! Hurry!_

The Entity’s whispering was hardly ever so clear. Nonsensical urges and desires manifested to sate the God’s hunger, and Anna knew the result of failure. Part of her wanted to ignore it, to let the competitor go. The agile girl had always been a good chase. _Chase, hunt! Find her!_ She growled, picking up her humming when the intrusive voice faded. Despite her irritation at the voice, she grinned at an idea forming in her head. _This trial won’t go to waste._

Feng heard the humming before she saw the Huntress, knowing to duck away from the generator in the playground and find bushes to use as cover. The sound of the generator being kicked was clear, and Feng knew she would have to hide well if she didn’t want to be caught now. The Huntress’ song grew deeper in tone, sending chills up Feng’s spine. She heard the grass rustle not far from her, making her stiffen even more. _I have to move._

The Huntress’ head darted when she heard a rustle that wasn’t her own. Feng looked over her shoulder, not wasting another second to get up and run. _Shit!_ She looked for the nearest house, knowing there was always a pallet somewhere around them. A hatchet flew past her head, inches away from scraping along her face. The sight of the pallet by the car was a relief, but Feng knew that getting away from the Huntress would not be easy. _No regrets for looping this time._ When the Huntress got too close, the pallet was thrown down in her face. 

Anna backed up just in time to avoid the slab of wood being thrown on top of her, and started to move around to try and get Feng to slide across. Anna had to go around the entirety of the car before the competitor moved to the other side of the pallet, rushing off in a dash and just barely avoiding the hatchet she threw with an expertly timed duck. Excitement at the newfound chase surged in her chest, and she couldn’t help laughing in glee as she followed the scratch marks. 

Feng didn’t dare look behind her. The Huntress was _very clearly_ enjoying this, and Feng was simply trying to focus on not dying so quickly. _Maybe I can lose her and get working on a gen._ Another hatchet flew through the air, this time aimed for her legs. Feng jumped over the hatchet, watching it splatter harmlessly against the dirt. Her feet got tangled with the now harmless tool, making her trip. _Fucking stupid!_

The Huntress loomed over her, and Feng was sure she was going to feel the sting of the ax in her face. Instead, the Killer reached down to try and pick her up. _I don’t think so._ She rolled out of the way of the outstretched hand, scrambling to her feet to run. Strong arms wrapped around her stomach and lifted her off the ground, making her start kicking and screaming. 

“Put me down!” 

Anna refused to relent. The chase had been fun, and she didn’t want to be cruel to the competitor who had gotten unlucky with a bad trial. _Not fair, or fun._

“Hush, child. Will not hurt you.” 

“You were throwing hatchets at me!”

“Only fun! For chase!”

Anna set the small girl down by a generator, earning her a confused and cautious stare. 

“What are you doing now?”

“Not fair, this time. Too easy. Fix and leave.” 

She hit the top of the generator with the broad side of her ax, not wanting to dull the blade. Feng tilted her head, still cautious. 

“Why would you just let me go? Isn’t it your goal to kill us all?”

Anna lowered her ax, shaking her head. 

“Not all the time. Don’t want to have boring hunts. Chase was fun!”

“So… you’re rewarding me for a fun chase by letting me go?”

Anna nodded happily, and Feng couldn’t help but grin. 

“Well, alright then. Thanks, bunny mom.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized just what exactly she had said. The delighted gasp from Anna made her look up. 

“Now wait-”

Feng yelped when she was scooped into a tight hug. She couldn’t understand every piece of Russian being spoken, but she could very easily tell that the Huntress was _beyond_ happy to be called mom. She could also distinctly feel her ribs being squeezed tighter than they ever had in all her life. 

_“You’re crushing me.”_

It was a strain to talk, but when she finally got the words out, Anna gently put her down. 

“Sorry, sorry! Happy, is all. Will make you mask, like mother did for me! Special for brave little daughter.”

Feng nodded, couching to work on the generator. 

“That’d be nice. Thanks.”

Anna nodded enthusiastically, humming cheerfully as she watched Feng work. This time, the lullaby wasn’t so eerie to Feng, and she wasn’t going to question it.


	92. Eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killer!Dwight has a bad day, and Killer!David is there to help.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for Dwight to have a bad trial as a Killer. It happened to every Killer eventually, either by flashlight, extremely altruistic survivors, or simply an off day. It still made him feel the overbearing weight of expectations on his shoulders, with insidious whispers in his ears that demanded a better performance. He hated hiding himself away in desolation, feeling so utterly insignificant and worthless that he could never help tears streaming down his face. 

He couldn’t even look up when he heard the heavy footsteps entering the house, signalling the return of the better of the two that stayed there. David was an incredibly efficient Killer, and there was no secret about it. 

David heard the soft echoes of sobs even before he had stepped into the house. As brutal as he was to survivors, there was no reason for him to be as brutal to the person he shared the house with. He was covered in blood, after pummeling survivors to a pulp, but he still shed the brass knuckles to try and seem less threatening. 

“Oi, where are ya, love?”

No answer, and the sobbing continued. He finally narrowed the source down to the corner of the empty room he used to unleash pent up aggression after a bad trial. 

“Dwight, c’mere love.”

Dwight didn’t make any attempt to move, letting David’s arms wrap around him. 

“S’not the end of the world, yeah? No harm in knowin’ what your limits are.”

Dwight shook his head, shushed before he could speak and swiftly picked up. 

“Don’t even say it, Dwight. Y’know yer not useless.”

David’s grip was strong, yet reassuring, as he carried Dwight to the living room of the house. The couch wasn’t particularly inviting, but it was comfortable enough. Dwight was gently set down on it, tears still freely streaming. David sat down next to him and started wiping them away with heavily bruised hands. 

“Besides, you don’t have t’worry ‘bout anything. You know I’d never let anything touch ya, right?”

Dwight nodded dumbly, closing his eyes and relaxing back into the couch. 

“Sorry.” 

Dwight’s voice was just barely above a whisper, trying not to beat himself up for past failures. David hands cupped either side of his face.

“Don’t apologize, there’s nothin’ to be sorry for. I’ll always be here for ya, forever. All we gotta do is make sure that forever stays forever, yeah? Nothing wrong with having a bad day if you’re tryin’ everything you can. I’ll always bring hell down on ‘em for making you feel like shit.”

Dwight nodded, giving a quiet hum. David’s arm wrapped around Dwight’s stomach and pulled him close. 

“Just relax, love, I’ll be here for ya whenever you need me.”

A deep exhale was the only sound that came out after, Dwight listening to David’s words and closing his eyes to relax.


	93. Enforcer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan sets the rules and enforces them.

Evan was one of the older Killers, in terms of who had been around the Entity’s realm the longest. Scars, gashes, and twisted metal throughout his body were the clear indicators of that, painful lessons about the result of insubordination. Whatever the Entity told him to do, he did without complaint. He was here for as long as he could see, and he might as well do his job to the best of his ability. 

There were rules he upheld, even if they weren’t rules that the Entity itself placed on them. As long as the Killers consistently sacrificed survivors, Evan knew, the Entity didn’t care much. The other Killers knew well that messing with Max was well off limits, and would be swiftly and _brutally_ punished if they broke that rule. For most, the warning was enough of a deterrence. For _some_ , it was taken as a challenge. 

Herman Carter always pushed his limits. He enjoyed it, testing his boundaries and seeing just what he could get away with and how. He was at least _persistent_ , but tested Evan’s already extremely thin patience _far too much._

Evan knew something was wrong the instant Max showed up with frazzled hair, and a more irregular gait than normal. He didn’t think of mentioning it, instead roughhousing with him to get his mind off whatever Carter tried to pull. Max was much like an excitable child, and Evan adored him. When the call of a trial interrupted them, Max happily bounded off to play. Evan took a deep breath, glare quickly forming under the mask and turned to find the Doctor. 

It wasn’t difficult to find him, white coat standing out in the gloom of the library of Lery’s. The small recreation was enough for Carter to sit at his desk and make whatever notes he wanted, perpetual grin on his face. 

“Carter.”

Carter looked up from his notes, head tilting at Evan. 

“Macmillan, what brings you to my humble presence?”

“Cut the shit, Carter. You know the fucking rules.”

“The rules that _you_ set? That hardly applies. The Entity’s the only rulegiver I care to listen to.”

Rage was quickly building in Evan’s chest, nor did he care to restrain himself as he nearly threw the desk aside. 

“I’m probably never gonna make you care, but unless you don’t want your ass beat, you’ll fucking listen to the rules.”

Carter stood, electricity sparking around his hands. 

“You aren’t so bold as to start a fight with me, are you Mr. Macmillan?”

Evan couldn’t stand it. He quickly swung, aiming for the complex metal around his mouth. Carter recoiled at the blow, shaking his head. 

“Don’t fucking test me.”

Carter stood tall, the sight of his grin only serving to further enrage Evan. 

“You get anywhere near him again and I’ll make you regret it.”

Evan felt electricity surge around him as Carter tilted his head. 

“I am not a man who is afraid of much, _Macmillan.”_

Evan grit his teeth, fists clenching. Even as the electric current grew in strength and coursed through his body, he wasn’t a stranger to pain. He kept raining blows down, even as he smelled the distinct scent of flesh burning. When Carter managed to slip away and shake his head, Evan could tell that the Doctor was visibly dizzy. 

“Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”

He turned to walk away, not sparing another glance backwards. He was satisfied with the grunts of pain he had heard, with how Carter had to desperately protect his face from furious punches, and with the lesson he very clearly sent across. There was a reason he was the diligent Killer he was. He did his job well, and nothing got in the way of that.


	94. Cuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tapp misses his normal gear.

Ace always liked to press his luck. Even when he knew better, it was in his nature to act impulsively. In trials, impulsive decisions usually landed him in more trouble than he could handle, yet he also got out of them the same way. Hiding in a locker against a very determined Huntress wasn’t the smartest idea, nor did he expect to find Tapp already in the locker, but there wasn’t any time to complain as he managed to squeeze himself in.

Neither dared to make a move until the Huntress’ humming was long gone, Tapp more than eager to get out of the cramped situation.

“Ace, get the fuck out already.”

“Aww, don’t be such a spoilsport, Tapp. We’ve got time, don’t we?”

“Fuck off, Visconti. We’ve got a trial to worry about, there’s no time to mess around.”

When Tapp moved, Ace stayed put and the last generator powered on.

“See? We’ve got time.”

“Ace, _I’m not playing._ Get the fuck out.”

“Or what? Are you thinking of arresting me for ‘obstructing justice’?”

Tapp groaned, unceremoniously pushing Ace out of the locker. Tapp brushed his hands off, walking towards the nearest door. Ace stood and brushed dirt off himself, then jogged to catch up with Tapp. Tapp started opening the gate when he heard a cry of pain, far in the distance.

“Get this gate open.”

Ace didn’t hesitate to start opening the gate, looking over his shoulder as Tapp ran off to help whoever was getting chased. Ace simply shrugged, leaning against the power switch when the gate opened in a cacophony of metal. He heard the humming again, Quentin followed by Tapp with both injured. Ace pushed himself off the switch and put himself between Tapp and the Huntress, feeling the stinging pain of the axe cutting into his shoulder. The cool fog was a welcome release, meaning the safety from Killers, for now.

Tapp sat against a log by the fire, certainly no stranger to pain. He was fine with it, getting hurt in the line of duty was always a potential he was aware of. He didn’t look up from treating himself as Ace sat next to him, sly grin on the gambler’s face.

“So, you still thinking of arresting me?”

“I just might, and leave you handcuffed to a tree for some peace and quiet.”

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were into that, Detective.”

Tapp groaned and rolled his eyes, pushing Ace’s face away.

“Shut up, Ace.”

Ace gave his trademark grin, sitting back on the log.

“Would you mind patching me up?”

Tapp rolled his eyes again, taking supplies from the medkit.

“Turn around and keep your mouth shut.”

“So grouchy, Detective.”

Tapp sighed, wrapping bandages around Ace’s shoulder with the knowledge that the gambler would hardly ever change, starting to debate whether or not he wanted him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an update! I've gotten to a point where I've caught up on requests and will be posting them much more frequently, which will still take me about 2 weeks with one fic per day. After that, my requests will be open again (albeit I will be more selective, my priority is on college and ofc, writing I want to do)


	95. Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda takes interest in one of the newer survivors.

Amanda knew the rules of the game she had a part in playing, as well as her elevated position in it and how much power she wielded over the survivors that needed to be tested; resolve stretched as thin as it could until it eventually shattered. She wanted to find that limit, where it became impossible for them to continue. And she would, she knew it. She wouldn’t stop until she did.

Yet there was a certain survivor that she was starting to take an interest in. She couldn’t explain why, but the newest arrival named Kate had caught her attention. She couldn’t let feelings get in the way of what she had to do, yet she knew there was no shaking the desire to get to know the survivor. As she felt the draw to another trial, Amanda made sure her weapon was in perfect condition and donned the pig mask.

The fog quickly rolled in, dispersing when the realm had been chosen for this particular game. The Red Forest was very different from what she was used to, but Amanda still knew the territory well. Yet, she knew right away there was something _off._ She could only see a few generators, much unlike the typical number that were present when there were a full team of four survivors to hunt and kill.

She crouched and started scouting around the area, determined to track down the survivor she assumed was the only one in this trial. That was the only sensical explanation she could find, and she would rather have this trial end quickly then waste her time with one survivor only. Yet, that plan quickly went out the window when she realized the survivor she had was just the one she was taking an interest in.

Kate had spotted The Pig when she was just too close to sprint away, yet she didn’t run just yet when the Killer made no effort to move. Instead, she stayed crouched and quietly watched, almost hesitant. Kate tilted her head, not daring to move but instead daring herself to speak.

“You… alright there, hun?”

_Why does she have to have such a nice voice?_ Amanda hated her current dilemma. She stood up, keeping the hidden blade stowed away.

“You’re the only here. Do the generators and get out.”

Kate blinked in surprise.

“You’re just, lettin’ me go?”

“Yes. Do you want to question that?”

Kate shook her head, giving such a sweet smile that Amanda swore she felt her own heart skip a beat.

“No, not at all, hun. Just surprised you’re so lovely after all the nasty sorta things I heard from the others.”

_Fuck._ Amanda turned away, waving in the direction of a generator.

“Over there, go.”

“Would you wanna keep me company, darlin’?”

Kate wasn’t at all afraid. Being nice and hospitable didn’t always work, but it was clear that it was working this time as Amanda started working towards the generator.

“Amanda, right? Or would ya like me to call ya Mandy?”

Kate wasn’t phased by the distinct silence she was met with after her question, starting to work on the generator with a grin. She blinked when she heard the softest voice.

“Mandy. Please.”

She nodded enthusiastically, letting her hands move based on memory.

“Sure thing, Mandy. You been here long?”

Amanda knew it was foolish to talk, foolish to build an attachment to one of the targets she was meant to hunt. But, she would allow herself this happiness, and she would never let anything take it from her.


	96. Falsetto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight can hit the high notes and David loves it (he just doesn't know how to say it).

It was hard not to join in rare festivities around the campfire, when there were no trials to survive through.  Downtime as a whole was rare, although Tapp was certain it was because other survivors they had never seen before were suffering through their own hell in trials.  With Kate’s arrival, downtime became much more vocal. The songbird always insisted to perform something, and encourage the others to join in singing anything they wished.  

Most everyone at some point eventually caved in to the demands to sing, with Dwight being one of the few that hadn’t.  At least, not yet.

“Come on, Dwight.  What’s the worst that could happen?”

Meg swung her legs from the low tree branch she was sitting on, more than eager to get Dwight to sing.

“I’m the worst singer that’s ever walked the planet and make a fool of myself?”

“Dwight, you know we’re not going to make fun of you.”

Claudette tried to give a reassuring smile, not sitting far from Jake.

“Besides, we’ve heard Meg sing already.”

“Rude!  Coming from a guy who’s only heard birds sing.”

“I’m not a fucking hermit, Meg, I know what music is.”

“Both of you are ridiculous.”

Laurie smiled as she shook her head, sitting next to Quentin with Feng on the other side of Quentin.

“Alright, alright, I’ll sing something.  I don’t really remember many songs well, though.”

“Nobody’s gonna mind that any bit, hun!”

Kate waved her hand enthusiastically, voice always cheery and upbeat.  Dwight took a deep breath, trying to remember the lines of a song he could sing.  Everyone else stayed gathered around the campfire, eagerly waiting for Dwight to start.  

_ “Ohh I!  I just died in your arms, tonight!” _

David’s eyes widened at the sudden high notes, not aware that Dwight’s voice could even go that high.  Kate smiled, quickly picking up on guitar notes to play the rest of the song. He remembered most of the song, getting more and more comfortable as he sang.  Kate started clapping in applause when he stopped, the others quickly joining in. Meg was the first to speak after the silence. 

“That was really good, Dwight!  I didn’t know your voice went that high.”

“I, uh… didn’t either, I guess.”

“Way better than Meg.”

“Jake, I will  _ destroy you.”   _

“I’d like to see you actually try to.”

“C’mere, then!”

Meg took off after Jake into the woods, leaving a sighing Claudette behind.  David stayed at the edges of the survivor group, hiding the blush growing on his face.  He was sure that he knew more about Dwight than anyone else did, but he was still stunned at his singing voice.  The creeping fog was their indication that the downtime was over, and four survivors were being called to a trial.  Quentin, Feng, Bill, and Ace were the ones to go, leaving everyone else to prepare for their inevitable turns. 

Dwight was sorting through his things when David came over, voice soft.

“Oi, You’ve really got a nice voice, y’know.”

Dwight shook his head with an embarrassed smile.  

“It’s nothing special, really.  Nothing like Kate’s, at least.”

David shrugged.  

“I wouldn’t want ya to be like Kate.  I want ya to be you.”

It was Dwight’s turn to blush, covering his face in his hands.  

“Thanks, David.  Honestly.”

David gave Dwight a tight hug, before standing to go prepare his own things.


	97. Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David without a shirt on earns the attention of a certain masked, smiling Killer.

David knew the moment he started taking his shirt off during trials, he’d earn attention from the others.   It took several trials for the other survivors to get used to it, and he didn’t quite care what the Killers thought.  If it made them stop and stare, for whatever reason, it meant more time they weren’t chasing his teammates.  _ Fine with me.   _

He was also fine with going down first, taking blows the others were spared of.  He was no stranger to pain, and would gladly bear it for the others. Pissing off the Killer was an added bonus, resulting in him following the Trapper around and disarming every single trap, and promptly hiding nearby when the owner came back to investigate.  David could tell that the Trapper was getting irritated, rearming traps with more and more force and haste each time the jaws were snapped shut.

The Trapper had enough of David’s habits.  This trial had been going horribly, all because the scrapper was consistently getting in the way.  If the survivor wanted to make his life hell, he was more than happy to return the favor. He knew for a fact that any trap he put down would be swiftly spotted, now counting on it as he put one down in the grass.  He started walking away, waiting a few seconds before turning around and assuredly seeing the shirtless scrapper trying to disarm the trap. 

The rough, scarred hand of the Trapper easily dug into his throat, catching him in the act of disarming the trap.  The jagged blade was starting to press into his exposed stomach, the Entity clearly as annoyed as the Trapper was if this was allowed.  He was pinned to the ground by the Trapper’s knee, blood trickling down his stomach to the dirt underneath. Rough fingers dug into open cuts, making him hiss in pain and struggle to free himself.  

“Get th’fuck off me!”

Ignoring the survivor in favor of digging the blade in more, there was something about David that he could respect.  Muscles were well defined, and there was no denying the man was a special brand of determined that made him almost hard to deal with.   _ Almost.   _

The klaxons of the exit gates powering jarred him, instilling the reminder of his objective.  The jagged edge of his trusty blade sank deeper and deeper into David’s midsection, leaving the survivor to very quickly bleed out, even if his natural tendency to bleed less took effect.  There was a job to be done, and the scrapper wasn’t going to get in the way of it now. 


	98. Play Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request with Killer!Jake and Myers having a hard time with the concept of sharing. Poor Dwight.

Dwight was always painfully aware of Jake's absence at the campfire.  He never felt like he had done enough to support the survivalist, to make sure that death after death wasn't wearing him down.  They all knew the threat of losing hope was very real, yet he still hadn't expected to lose Jake. Guilt weighed heavily, he found, but he had to keep going.  There was still the concern of the others, and as the Leader, he wasn't going to fail again. 

Claudette was a godsend, taking care of the others and allowing him to venture more and more into the woods.  He needed to find answers, to learn more and more until there was nothing left uncovered. There had to be some way to get the upper hand on the Entity.  It had been done before, with the creation of the hatch itself and all of the shrouds they could burn as offerings. The dangers of wandering alone in the woods were always at the back of his mind, yet never stopping him from going out time and time again.  

Michael always observed the campfire carefully from a distance, curiosity and obsession easily blending together.  The leader of the survivors was spending more and more time away from the light, allowing him to get closer and closer in his observations.  Yet, there was always something that got in his way, entangling his leg or otherwise preventing him from getting  _ too  _ close.  The blockades were starting to get on his nerves.  

He did  _ not  _ like being denied.  He knew who was responsible, the other Killer that watched the leader like a hawk and set cunning traps of rope to impede his progress.  The former survivalist, somehow even  _ more  _ irritating now than before, was always in the way.  Michael didn’t care for the reason why, he only knew he was going to put an end to it.

Jake knew he was still incredibly possessive.  As a Killer, that was a trait of his that only seemed to get heightened.  The only response he had to finding Michael trailing Dwight was distinct, unabashed anger.  Every fiber of his conscious was filled with the desire to keep Michael away, by any means necessary.  He didn’t care if the other Killer was getting more and more angered, he always lived with being the focus of their ire as a survivor.  There was nothing that anyone could do to permanently hurt him, not anymore. 

His main concern was Michael getting smarter about avoiding the cleverly hidden traps he set up around the woods.  More and more of them were going untripped, and Jake did not like the situation that would arise from them not working.  While carefully avoiding traps, Michael’s footsteps were not at all concealed and extremely easy to track. The sudden yelp caught his attention, making him move towards the source of the sound quickly.  

Dwight couldn’t help the noise that came out of his mouth when the firm hand tightened around his throat and held him against the tree.  He could still breathe and squirm, but trying to wiggle free of the grip was almost futile. Michael slowly tilted his head, the black shadows under the mask making it hard to tell what the Killer was thinking.  Dwight only knew that he had to get free and run for the campfire. 

When the hook swung around Michael’s arm, Dwight’s eyes widened.  He recognized the makeshift weapon as Jake’s, only having a moment to try and trace the other’s location before being thrown to the ground.  Michael was never particularly gentle, feeling the air forced out of his lungs and struggling to breathe. Neither Killer seemed happy, and at the moment he needed to recover and not get further injured in the crossfire.  

He shook his head when he caught his breath, looking up to see both Michael and Jake staring each other down intently.   _ I should just run now, while they’re busy.  So why am I still here?  _ He sat frozen, watching the staredown.   _ Are they fighting over me?   _ He shook his head briefly, forcing himself to his feet.  The swing of the kitchen knife made him keep his distance, but Jake’s retaliation with a clawed swipe made him speak up.

“Stop it!”

_ What am I even doing?  I should just leave!  _ Both Killers blankly stared at him, now desperate to think of anything to say.  

“You can’t fight with each other if you expect me to stay around.”

His attempt to be stern and serious was overshadowed by caution and wariness.  Both Jake and Michael slowly turned to stare at each other, several moments of tentative silence driving Dwight crazy.  When they stepped back and lowered their weapons, Dwight sighed in relief. 

“There.  I-I should go now.”  

The lack of a response was almost unsettling, and he was more than happy to bolt into the woods back to the campfire.  Having two Killers actually listen to him had to be some sort of benefit, but he needed time to figure out how. Jake narrowed his eyes at Michael, nearly snarling before taking careful steps backwards without moving his gaze.  Michael stood perfectly still, meeting Jake’s eyes with matched animosity. Neither of them wanted to share. 


	99. Gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nea nearly gets mori'd, but Jake saves the day.

Nea didn’t mind the Asylum, even if she was the reason it was a mess of cinders and shaky floors.  It tended to remind her of her first trial, discovering just how important her natural skill of staying hidden was in the face of bloodthirsty killers.  The Nurse was especially brutal, quickly able to blink around the area and check on generators. She was always more driven on the Asylum grounds themselves, and Nea wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out why.  All she knew is that the Nurse particularly didn’t like her, and it didn’t surprise her when she had the Nurse focusing her the entire trial. She knew that if she got caught again, a mori would be her end rather than a hook.  

The heartbeat pounding was her indication that the Nurse was close by, yet she hadn’t been spotted yet.  That didn’t mean, however, that the Nurse was oblivious to the fact that Nea was also close by. One generator left to go, and the Nurse had only gotten the other two survivors sacrificed.  It was Nea and Jake left, and Nea  _ entirely  _ expected the survivalist to run for the gate the moment he got a generator powered.  She crept around the ruined gateway of the Asylum itself, keeping a careful eye on the Nurse.  

The loud siren of the gates being powered was a relief, but the completion of the last generator instilled a new kind of fury in the Nurse.  One wrong step made the grass rustle, and Nea knew she had to get up and run. The screech behind her was fast, and the blade soon sank deep into her back and sent her sprawling to the ground.  The thunderous boom of a totem being cleansed only confirmed the Hex. She couldn’t help the sudden shriek when she was suddenly flipped onto her back, scream being cut short when hands closed around her throat.  

It was always futile to try and fight back, to try and claw at the blank face that was suffocating the life out of her, but that never meant she’d stop trying.  Her vision quickly blurred, black spots taking up more and more of her sight. Everything spun, pressure tightening more and more around her neck. Then, all at once, the pressure was gone.   _ The trial isn’t over yet, is it?   _

Nothing felt like it was responding at all.  Her head spun and every limb felt weak. She could barely tell she was being carried, more delicately than any Killers bothered to.  Lack of air made her head hurt, making her stay limp as she was carried somewhere. She instead shut her eyes, struggling to get air back into her lungs.  The air turned cold, stinging her throat and chest. The arms around her gently set her down, reassuring as she couldn’t stifle the whine of pain. 

“You okay?”

Jake’s voice was soft and concerned, and it took her a moment to realize that he had carried her out.  She nodded with rapid blinks to clear her head. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Thanks.”

She didn’t bother to fight his arms around her waist.  He always was a person who showed affection rather than said it, and the care was well appreciated.  Her neck was still sensitive, not needing to see it to know there would be marks, yet they went unmentioned by Jake.  Either he didn’t notice, or didn’t care, as he gently trailed kisses along the bruises. She happily leaned against him, laughing quietly as he paused to speak. 

“Glad you’re okay.”  

“I would’ve come back here anyway.”  

“I know.”

She shook her head with a grin, letting herself relax.  Jake sat near the fire with Nea close, staying as still as he could to let her rest.  


	100. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael tries to apologize, Laurie isn't quite having it.

Laurie never knew what to expect in the Entity’s realm.  Michael’s obsession with her hardly wavered, but she did notice how outside of trials, he made more and more attempts to reach out peacefully.  She wasn’t sure what to think of it. Every attempt of reconciliation only made her remember every second of fighting for her life, every desperate struggle and painful loss of people close to her only because they knew her.  The reflection in the shard of iridescent glass she kept was almost strange and unrecognizable. Blood didn’t faze her anymore, but the familiarity of it should have been concerning. 

The sudden chill up her spine was her warning that she was being watched, a feeling that was incredibly familiar through countless trials.  She darted her attention around to the bushes, keenly aware of the silent figure watching out of sight. She didn’t need to see him to know when he was around.

“I know you’re there.  I don’t want to talk.”

The silence was unsettling, where neither dared to make a single sound.  She kept her eyes narrowed, bitterness and anger rising. 

“I’m not forgiving you, not anytime soon.”

The bushes rustled when Michael stepped closer.  Laurie stood to match, gripping the shard tightly in her hands and ignoring the flickers of pain.  He was standing perfectly still, knife absent from his grip yet undoubtedly somewhere close by. Laurie didn’t waver, arms crossed as she stared intently back at the voids in the mask’s eyes.  

“You spent so much time making my life miserable.  You’re my older brother, and I know we never got to spend much time together, but you were still the reason I lost so many people close to me!  Only because they knew me! And you think I’m just going to forgive you right away? Big brothers aren’t supposed to make you fear for your life, or try again and again to kill you.  I’m supposed to forget all the pain you put me through and forgive you just because you feel sorry now?” 

She let out a breath, steeling her emotions and composing herself.  The silent response wasn’t surprising, instead Michael stared with a slight tilt of his head.  It was strange, she felt, to simply understand what her brother was conveying sometimes, yet she was glad when it meant she could try and keep him from hurting more of her new friends.  

“I know you’re trying to make up for everything, but it’s not fair to act like I’m going to forgive you just like that.  If we didn’t show up here, how much longer would you have gone after me? Or people I tried to talk to? Every moment I was terrified, and that isn’t going away.”

His head tilted downwards, to the ground, and Laurie knew it was a solemn movement.  She was so sure before that he was an emotionless monster, incapable of feeling any human emotion in all her time trying to survive, and yet now she wasn’t so sure anymore.  

“And don’t think I hold trials personally.  We all know how those go. Just, prove that you’re serious about this.  That this isn’t some trick to murder me when I least expect it.”

He looked up at Laurie, giving the smallest nod before he turned and disappeared into the fog.  She took another deep breath, left in the silence of the woods. Time wasn’t a concern; not when they had as much of it as they could ever want.  Carefully tucking the glass shard away, Laurie turned and headed back to the campfire.


	101. Slow and Steady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David helps Dwight calm down after a panic attack.

Dwight hated the Doctor.  Most of the survivors felt the same, although each tended to respond in their own way.  Feng and Nea liked to make his life as hellish as possible, while Claudette and Quentin preferred getting everyone out as quickly as possible.  Fully recovering from the electric shocks took no time at all for some, yet much longer for others, and Dwight hated being one of the latter. 

It was normal for him to disappear for a bit after a bad Doctor trial, electric “therapy” rattling him far more than he wanted to admit.  Panic attacks were a familiar feeling to him, but that never meant he wanted to experience it. The others didn’t need to see him breaking down, it would only shake their confidence too.  It was better for the team if he suffered in silence, they all had enough to deal with as is. The last thing they needed was more pressure. 

His hands shook even has he held them together, breathing rapid and his face a sweaty mess.  He knew to slow his breathing down, to calm himself before it got worse, yet with his mind racing with every thought he wanted to keep bottled away, he couldn’t focus.  He was terrified, that he wasn’t good enough, not doing enough, always  _ failing again and again and again- _

“Oi, Dwight?  Where’d you run off ta?”

David’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.   _ Why was he here?  What could he possibly want?  I can’t let him see me like this!   _ He tried to stand, only for his legs to give out under him and make him fall with an undignified yelp.  

“Dwight, you okay?!”

There was no hiding it now, he knew, especially when David rushed out from the bushes and caught sight of him shaking and sweating.  

“Oi, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m fine, David, I just need time-”

“Bullshit yer fine.  What’s the matter?”

“I-I just… I’m okay, honestly.  Just, I need to calm down. I can’t think straight, there’s too much I need to do and focus on and I-”

“Dwight, stop.” 

He nodded at David’s command, sitting cross-legged with his shaking hands in his lap.  David quickly grabbed hold of his hands, making him realize just how much he was shaking.  

“Don’t worry about any of that other shite right now, yeah?  Just breathe.”

Dwight nodded, taking shaky deep breaths as David’s hands gently caressed his own.  David’s hands were rough and bloody, evidence of fight after fight that he engaged in too soon after the last to allow his hands to heal properly.  There was no denying David was most likely one of the stronger survivors that came to join them, yet he was also incredibly capable of being delicate and careful.  He couldn’t help biting his lip, he felt  _ ridiculous,  _ breaking down in front of David like that.  

“You okay now?”

Dwight nodded quickly, avoiding David’s concerned gaze. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.  Sorry you had to see that, I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

David grinned casually, patting Dwight’s shoulder.  

“I’m a tough guy, Dwight.  Seeing you have a bad day isn’t gonna bother me, it’s not seeing you at all that worries me.  We’re a team, yeah? No more running off and hiding what’s going on?”

Dwight smiled slightly, nodding slowly.  

“Yeah, sorry for worrying you.  The Doctor really messes with me.”

“That fucker deserves to have his face beat against a fuckin’ metal wall.  Next time I see him I’m taking his damn bat and beatin’ the hell outta him with it.”

“David,  _ please don’t.” _

“I can’t promise anything, y’know that.”

David grinned, standing and offering a hand to help Dwight up.  Dwight took it and nodded thanks, heading back to the campfire alongside David.  


	102. Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myers gets injured and Dwight helps him.

Dwight wasn’t sure how long it had been since Myers had taken a special kind of interest in him and had more or less kidnapped him during a trial.  It was common for Myers to come back and simply watch him, unsettlingly so. The only plus that Dwight was able to find from it was that he wasn’t being sent to trials time and time again.  He had discovered, one night when he was exhausted of being so wary, that being calm often resulted in being given more freedoms. First, it started with the room, being free to move around as he wanted.  Then, it started extending to more rooms of the house. 

The outer doors and windows were still carefully locked and secured, Myers being correct in the assumption that if there was any chance to escape, Dwight would take it.  The house was always eerily silent when he was alone, often leaving him to explore every inch and map it all out in his head, to know every possible avenue for escape or confusing a pursuer.  

A few times, Myers had come back in a clear foul mood, and Dwight could only assume what had happened.  A bad trial always happened for the Killers, and Dwight always considered those good for him and his team.  Yet know, it brought an entirely new threat of potentially being the victim of that pent-up frustration. 

Yet Dwight had never seen Myers come back so injured and what he could only assume as  _ tired.   _ The Entity hardly ever let it’s Killers be tired, there was always something it wanted them to do.  Myers didn’t at all seem interested in him, which was unsettling in itself. He was used to being stared at, watched and admired like a prize.  Any time that Michael didn’t do that was cause for concern. 

Creeping into the room, Dwight could see Michael’s bloody shoulder with several clear stab wounds.  Laurie was teaching the other survivors her tricks, and it was obvious they were relying on them more and more.  An idea starting forming in his head as he quietly walked closer, clearing his throat to make his presence known.  Michael turned and stared as Dwight forced the unease from his stomach. 

“You’re hurt.  Do you want me to help?”

Neither of them made a motion, until Michael’s head slowly tilted.  Dwight swallowed, pointing outside the front door. 

“I know how to put stuff together to make it hurt less.”

Claudette’s knowledge was infinitely useful, and he was extremely grateful for her patience in teaching others.  Michael slowly walked towards Dwight, forcing the pit of unease and nervousness back into his stomach. The grip on his arm made him yelp, but he soon realized he was being led to the front door and outside.  There was no way he’d outrun Michael, but if he could someway, somehow, earn his trust, then  _ maybe _ that would work in his favor.  

He could feel Michael’s intense gaze on him as he remembered Claudette’s words, finding the right plants that would alleviate the pain.  Grinding the plants into a paste using a hollowed strip of bark, he stood and faced Michael. 

“This goes on your shoulder.  Or, I could do it for you.”

Silence.  Then, Michael dragged Dwight over to the front of the house on the porch, pulling a chair over and sitting down.  Dwight nodded, carefully applying the paste as Claudette showed him countless times. He couldn’t tell if he was causing more pain with his touch based off Michael’s stoicism, but he supposed it didn’t particularly matter by the time he had finished.  

“There.”  

Michael stood abruptly, leading Dwight back inside.  He stood in the doorway, head tilted as he slowly brushed his hand through Dwight’s hair.  He didn’t dare move from the touch, letting out a deep breath when Michael pulled his hand away and closed the door to keep Dwight inside, and head to what the leader assumed was another trial.  His plan would take time, but he figured he was on the right track.


	103. Tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myers hears Dwight sing.

“I’m sure, Dwight.  I don’t think little ol’ me’s gonna have a hard time keepin’ an eye on everythin’.  Go on and take a nice break.”

Kate was a newer arrival, but was warm and open with every survivor.  There was no secret that Dwight was stressing himself to keep people safe and alive, and it was starting to show.  He nodded after a deep breath. 

“Alright, thanks Kate.  If you need anything-”

“I’ll shout for ya, hun.  Now go on, don’t let yourself worry anymore.”

Dwight nodded again, turning to walk into the woods with a smile.  He enjoyed the company of the other survivors, starting to feel extremely comfortable with them.  Even still, he needed time to himself, leading him to aimlessly wander through the woods and eventually end up humming along to songs he still remembers fondly.  He couldn’t help wondering what was newly released, what sort of songs he might be listening to now if he was back home. 

Michael always watched the survivors when he had the chance.  It was the constant obsessions that drove him to observe his current fascination, knowing it would always fall back to Laurie.  His mind still whispered a need for her death, even if it wasn’t ever going to be permanent now. He saw the leader walk into the woods, curiosity driving him to follow.  It was when he started humming that he became even more curious and determined to stay hidden. 

It was odd.  The sound itself was soothing, despite the whisper that told him it would do nothing in the midst of a trial; the urge and desire to sink his knife deep into flesh and watch life drain from the subject would always win out.  Yet the humming was nice to listen to, a pleasant variation in the typical sounds of the Entity’s realm. It was obvious that the leader had no idea he was there, humming getting louder and louder until it evolved into full blown singing.  

He didn’t understand why.  It was strange to watch, the leader singing and moving around to an invisible audience.  He knew he wouldn’t ever fully understand, it was a complete waste of time and energy yet it was still a waste he was interested in watching.  The words themselves didn’t matter, it was the enthusiasm and excitement that the leader had for it. 

Michael cursed the flock of crows that startled the leader out of his fun, making the alert wariness return with a vengeance.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to kill them; the Entity was intensely defensive of it’s spies and touching them would always result in punishment. When his attention went back to the clearing, Dwight was long gone, having vanished into the woods to hide from whatever danger that might be lurking.  

There would always be another time.


	104. Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake gets a new wardrobe.

“Jake, what the fuck.”

“I didn’t pick this.”

Meg couldn’t help laughing as Feng stared at Jake, who now wore a hilariously out of place outfit that made him look like a cowboy.  

“So why are you wearing it anyway?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“What, did you lose a bet or something?”

“No.”

Feng opened her mouth to speak again before Kate walked into the clearing, pausing and staring at Jake.  

“What the hell are you in, darlin’?”

Jake sighed, letting his head hang in defeat.  She wasted no time walking over and lifting his head with both her hands on his cheeks.  

“Honey… You look downright ridiculous.”

“I know.”

He winced at the pinching of his cheeks, head being shaken slightly as Kate laughed.  

“It’s a cute kinda ridiculous though, hun!  Like a little halloween costume.”

Feng couldn’t help a wave of laughter, trying to stifle it with her shirt.  Jake was flustered, she knew, and she wasn’t going to make a single effort to help him out of the situation.

“Kate-”

“It’s okay to have a little good hearted fun, darlin’!”

“But I didn’t-”

“Don’t worry yourself none about it, hun!  Come on, I can tell ya all about my home if you’re so interested in it!”

“Wait-”

Jake was cut off as Kate happily grabbed his arm and dragged him off, Feng wiping tears from her eyes.  Meg had done a much better job of suppressing her laughter, watching the spot where the two disappeared.

“She absolutely knows he isn’t wearing it by choice, right?”

Feng coughed, taking a deep breath.

“God I hope so.  I really want to know how that goes.”


	105. Sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie has a sharp wit, as Michael and Freddy find out.

Michael had the keen, unnatural feeling that something was wrong.  It wasn’t a feeling that struck him often; he knew the familiar feeling of obsessing, that drive to watch and observe with a matching intensity to spill blood and watch it floor to the ground below them, to watch it pool and shimmer in the dim light. He knew that feeling when he obsessed with Laurie, and while now it manifested in strange and peculiar ways, it was a normal part of his life now.  

When he had that odd feeling of concern, he knew there was something happening that he wasn’t going to like.  He let himself simply walk where he was drawn to, unclear exactly where he was even going. He heard Laurie’s voice, distant and unclear but assuredly present and quickened his pace.  He knew he heard the voice of Freddy, the disgusting demon that had recently refused to leave him be. 

He didn’t care personally, Freddy’s taunts were only that and he didn’t pay any mind to things that weren’t a threat.  It was only annoying, constantly being poked and harassed as Freddy went to greater extents to unnerve him. He couldn’t yet hear what Freddy was saying, but Laurie’s voice was clearly angry and starting to shout.

“You’re really full of yourself for someone who looks like burnt fucking pizza that nobody even bothered to check on because they knew it was going to be shit anyway!”

It was clear she was fighting Freddy, unsurprising but still infuriating as the demon tried to find anyway he could to get on Michael’s nerves.  Familiar rage surged, but as he came closer, he could see Laurie holding the glass shard she had jabbed into his shoulder so many times before, hand bleeding as she gripped it tightly.  Freddy’s laugh echoed, the sound of blades moving before Michael saw the owner.

“You really don’t know who you’re messing with, girlie.”

“I know  _ what _ I’m messing with, and that’s with an outdated, pathetic wretch that doesn’t know when to leave my family alone!”

Michael blinked in surprise.   _ Why would she do that for me?   _ His head tilted, standing consumed by his thoughts until Laurie’s pained cry jarred him.  He stormed out from the underbrush, not getting in between his sister and Freddy.

“Oh, look at you, Angel.  You need your big brother to come save you?”

“Watch me come over there and drive this glass so far into your throat you’ll sound like you burst into flames because of all the cigarettes you smoked!”

Michael couldn’t help the quiet snort.  His sister was just as ferocious as he remembered, his grip tightening on the knife’s handle as he stepped towards Freddy.  The demon sneered, stepping back. 

“I’ll wait for you to test that in a trial.”

Without another moment of hesitation, Freddy disappeared.  Michael still kept himself prepared, not wanting to be surprised.  Laurie sighed in relief, tucking the glass shard away. 

“Did you…  laugh?”

He turned to look at her, meeting her fearless and slightly grinning face.  The small tilt of his head was enough of an answer for her. 

“You did!  You actually laughed!”

He didn’t mind letting her have her victory, content that she was fine.  He reached for her injured hand, letting his arm rest at his side when she got the message he was conveying.  

“I know, I’ll head back and get it looked at.”  

She nodded with a smile at Michael, before turning to jog into the woods and head back to the campfire as Michael stood and watched her leave, waiting a few moments longer before heading back home himself and grinning ever so slightly under his mask.  


	106. New Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feng has a new outfit, complete with a ponytail, and Quentin notices.

Feng was not someone who tended to care about what others said about her personally.  Even as she dressed in the new outfits she was given, and her hair tied up in a ponytail.  The only people she cared about were few and far between, and somehow Quentin had gotten to be one of the few that she cared about.  It was only a matter of time before he saw her, he would be back from a trial anytime soon.

She stared into the campfire, starting to feel nervousness build. Even though she had only ever known Quentin to be far nicer than she deserved, there was the very real concern that he’d just say it looked nice to not hurt her feelings.  She wanted honesty, even if it hurt more than a lie. Her attention darted to the treeline as she heard the grass rustle, and Quentin slowly walked out. 

“Hey Feng, how-”

Quentin stopped, blinking at Feng as she turned around.  

“You have a new shirt.”

Feng stood with a groan, rolling her eyes.  

“Yeah, notice anything else?”

Quentin blinked rapidly, head tilting as confusion started inching its way onto his face.  

“Uh…  You don’t have blood on your face anymore?”

Feng smacked her palm to her forehead, sighing loudly.  

“No, 龟!  Didn’t you notice my hair?”

Quentin’s eyes narrowed.  

“No, why would-oh!  You put it in a ponytail!”

She shook her head, even as a grin started on her face.  

“How did you not notice earlier?”

Quentin shrugged, walking closer to the fire.  

“I don’t know, I didn’t think about it that much.”

She playfully punched his arm, laughing.  

“How can you be that oblivious?”

“Look, I save my attention for trials.  Give me a break.”

Quentin grinned, moving to sit down by the fire.  Feng sat next to him, making sure to sit close by.  

“You need sleep is what that is.”

“I don’t!”  

“Yes you do, now sleep or I’m standing in the fire again.”

Quentin groaned, laying back with a dramatic flourish.  Feng watched as he closed his eyes and relaxed, worries entirely gone.  


	107. Teach New Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Huntress learns a new trick!

“Dwight, you did what?”

“I don’t know, I panicked!”

Nea had her arms crossed, leaning against a tree as she stared at the leader.  Jake wasn’t far off, listening quietly. 

“Your flashlight ran out of battery, so you threw it at the Huntress and shouted ‘yeet’ in a panic?  Dwight, who the fuck panics like that?”

“I do!”

Jake simply shook his head, getting up when a trial started to call him.  He felt a minor amount of responsibility, with him and Feng teaching him what ‘yeet’ was in the first place, but it wasn’t enough to really bother him.  He took a deep breath as he settled into the trial, this time placed on the Rotten Fields of the farm. He took his time walking around, nearly bumping into Feng herself at a chest.  

“Careful, jesus.  Don’t run into me like that.”  

Jake simply nodded, listening carefully.  He heard the faint lullaby of the Huntress herself, nudging Feng with his foot.  

“Huntress.”

She nodded, admiring the nice toolbox she grabbed out of the chest before standing and keeping a watchful eye out for the Killer.  She and Jake took their time heading to a generator, kneeling down to work on it. Another generator powered on in the distance, making Jake assume someone brought a brand new part for a generator.  

“YEET!”

Feng and Jake paused, staring at each other in disbelief.  

“That… was the Huntress, right?”

Feng nodded, the realization hitting her and making her burst into laughter.  

“Holy SHIT!  That’s fucking amazing!”

Jake scrambled to try and cover her mouth and subsequently, the uncontrolled laughter coming out of her mouth.  

“Feng, shut it!”

She swatted his hand away, still laughing loudly.  

“No, fuck you, that’s great!  I don’t care if she comes to kill us, I’m gonna die of laughter first!”

Jake sighed, trying to bite back the amusement.  It  _ was  _ hilarious, and while he was sure it wouldn’t last long, it was at least a break in the gloomy repetition of trials.  He picked her up over his shoulder, Feng far too busy laughing to mind. 


	108. Little Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request for a lovely friend of mine about Momma Huntress and sleepy boi Quentin!

Quentin’s back hurt, claw slashes raking deep into skin and flesh.  Yet, he couldn’t stop moving, running through the foggy woods of the Entity’s realm in the hopes of simply outlasting his pursuer, for the Entity to take Freddy off to another trial and leave him alone.  He knew Freddy was still nearby, he had grown used to the demon’s presence and could simply tell when he was around. Even before he heard the sickening laughter, Quentin knew he was in a bad spot. 

“Nowhere to run.”

Quentin couldn’t tell where exactly Freddy was hiding, only that the demon was somewhere close.  His back was bleeding, and he needed to get back to the campfire, yet there was no telling how long it would take or even where he needed to go to get there.  Everything about this situation was bad, and he knew the pain wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. 

Claws raked down across his arm and chest, making him cry out in pain and stumble backwards.  He tried crawling away, biting his lip to keep himself from whining in pain. 

“What’s the matter, Quen?  This has been a long time coming.”

He kept moving away, fighting back the feelings of fear and concern.  He could see Freddy creep closer and closer, taunting smile visible in the midst of the fog.  Before Freddy could speak up again, a familiar glinting hatchet soared through the air and embedded itself firmly in Freddy’s shoulder.  The demon growled in annoyance, looking to the source of the hatchet. 

Quentin didn’t understand Russian, but he  _ did  _ understand the tone was angry, shouting at the top of her inhuman lungs and effectively driving the demon away without much effort.  The Huntress was one of the strongest Killers of the realm, and it showed. When her attention focused on him, he couldn’t help trying to get up and run.  

“Shhh, shhhh, it is okay.”

Her voice was much softer now, anger dissipated and axes safely stowed away.  Her hand was outstretched to him, almost inviting. He couldn’t accept, there was no way of knowing what she would do.  He was in extreme pain, trying not to cower in fear and agony as the Huntress knelt in front of him. 

“Shh, little one.  I am here, it is okay.”

She was  _ colossal.   _ It made him feel incredibly small and weak compared to her, even though he was one of the taller survivors at the campfire.  For now, she seemed docile enough, and more than willing to help him. He couldn’t shake the pit of fear in his stomach as he took her hand, yelping in surprise when she picked him up like a small child and started rubbing his back gently.  

He could clearly hear and feel the humming; it was a low rumble as he was held close against her body that ended up being strangely soothing.  He refused to let his guard down, muscles tense in case he needed to ignore the pain searing his muscles and run for the light of the campfire.  Her strides were far bigger than his, not taking long at all to reach the interior of her cabin and for him to be set down on a soft blanket. 

“Stay.”

The command was spoken gently, not intending to instill more fear in him.  Logically, he knew that, but his mind raced with the  _ why’s.   _ He stayed put, looking around carefully for escape routes and makeshift tools to use in self-defense if necessary.  He took a deep breath when she came back with a neatly wrapped bundle, panic surging when it was unwrapped and wooden cups of something reminiscent of Claudette’s salves were revealed.  

“Pain will go away, I promise.”

_ She was helping him more?   _ He nodded, sitting still and trying not to whine as the salve made contact with open skin and initially stung.  He could clearly hear her cooing, trying to reassure him as a mother would for an upset child.  _ That wasn’t totally wrong, was it?   _ He didn’t dare move, but he didn’t fail to notice how careful she was being to not hurt him more.  Makeshift bandages were wrapped around the wounds, pain starting to fade as the medicine kicked in.  

“All better.  Will keep you safe, until you heal.”

Quentin blinked in confusion.  

“Why?  I thought you preferred girls.”

The Huntress hummed, brushing loose hair out of Quentin’s face.  

“Tend to.  Sometimes, there are exceptions.”

He nodded slowly, taking her hand again and trying to ease himself from the self-instilled panic.  She was being sincere, he knew, but he still was habitually cautious. She led him to a small room, cozy with various stuffed toys and blankets, all clearly hand-made.  The wall was adorned with a multitude of masks, including a very intricately patterned mask of a buck. 

“Rest here, nothing will hurt you.”

He nodded, sitting on the essential mountain of soft blankets and furs.  They were  _ extremely  _ soft, and clearly well maintained.  

“Thanks.”

The Huntress walked over, gently pressing the nose of her mask to his forehead.  

“No need, little one.  Sleep well.”

She quietly walked out, leaving Quentin to rest in a cocoon of soft blankets and shielded from the ire of the demon chasing him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten myself up to date, so I'll be working on new requests again! I will be a tad more selective than I have been, and will simply post them when done.


	109. Jumpscare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request for Kate/Laurie!

Laurie interested Kate.  There was no denying that, even to the others, but Kate herself was not a person that hid her feelings.  She had been told that while Laurie was younger than most, if she had aged to the year where most of them had been taken, she would be older than almost everyone.  It had been on Kate’s agenda to sit down and talk to the young woman, one who was very well experienced in surviving, yet each time she tried one of them had a trial to go to without the other.  It was starting to annoy Kate, not getting a proper chance to talk to Laurie and find out the story for herself from the very person it involved. 

When Laurie had been called off to a trial, Kate could only nod and pass the time the best ways she knew how.  She still greatly enjoyed music and singing, and being here in the Entity’s realm wouldn’t stop her. Kate was not a person who gave up easily.  She fought tooth and nail against life’s hardships, knowing that she could handle whatever was thrown her way. From what she knew about Laurie, she was not too different but for vastly different reasons.  

She got lost in singing to no one in particular, letting the tune flow where it so chose and simply being the avenue through which it was conveyed.  This happened often, where inspiration took hold and she was set on seeing where it took her. It was soothing, a sense of freedom that she couldn’t find anywhere else.  

Laurie had quietly crept back after the trial, being the last one back after evading the Killer’s grasp and finding her ticket to freedom in the form of the hatch that the others had used a key on.  She was eager to get back to the fire, to have as much time to unwind as possible. Not to mention, she was exhausted from trial after trial with narrow escapes. The sweet voice she heard caught her attention, singing softly but without any concern or shame.  

Laurie took careful steps closer, making sure her footfalls were near silent.  Over the sound of singing, her steps were inaudible, allowing her to get close without being noticed.  Kate was too busy singing to notice her, even as she sat down on the log. The song was beautiful, half lulling Laurie to sleep before it suddenly stopped and Kate’s yelp woke her up.  

“Good lord, hun, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Laurie quietly laughed, smiling softly.  

“I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t want to interrupt your singing.  It’s very beautiful.”

Kate took deep breaths to recollect herself, hand on her chest rising with each intake.

“I’m glad ya think so, darlin’.  I’d love to teach ya some of the songs I know, if ya like.  We never have time to sit down and chat and it’s real irritatin’.  I’d love to get to know ya.”

Laurie nodded, crossing her arms in her lap.  

“Sure, I have time now.  What was your home like?”

“Oh, hun, we’re gonna be here all night.”

“We have all the time in the world, don’t we?”

Kate couldn’t help laughing, shifting off the log to lean against it instead.  

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya when I say we’re gonna be here awhile.”  

The campfire in front of them crackled with warmth, a living source of solace from the fog and the dangers beyond as Kate talked and Laurie listened with great interest.


	110. Punish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story about a younger Entity teaching the original four a lesson.

The Entity was still learning, a relatively newer being in comparison to others of it’s similar kind.  Human beings were strange, tiny things that behaved in odd ways. So far, there were a small group of survivors, hunted by it’s dutiful Killers.  They weren’t as interesting as this new group of survivors, individuals that easily disappeared and had stuck together since their arrival to the domain the Entity ruled.  

Their names didn’t matter, they were suitable prey and performed well.  They had adapted quickly, one taking the lead despite how insignificant his life was prior.  The Entity watched the quiet one get to know his fellows, watched how the fast one bounded with endless stores of energy, and watched how the other girl attuned herself to the floral world it built around them.  Through them, it learned how the world worked, every intricacy and detail carefully reconstructed to allow them to settle in. 

It was good to see that it worked, the new four victims adjusting quickly and excelling.  It’s Killers did too, hunting with greater determination as the stakes rose. It was a vital part of the process, ensuring that the victims did not give up or that the Killers did not fail too often.  A delicate balance which the Entity devoted itself entirely to upholding, feeling nothing but newfound drive as the survivors got too arrogant, and too good at what they were doing. 

Human emotions were unfamiliar, yet what  _ were these strange thoughts?  Panic, fear? No, never fear. What is this, then?   _ The Entity had to balance the growing shift in power, or else risk not being able to do so when it was far more important.  The animalistic drive of self-preservation drove it. It was getting tired of the victims not understanding their place; they were always  _ prey  _ and needed  _ fear.   _

The Heir of the Estate was the Killer of this trial that the Entity oversaw, unsuccessful in killing any of the victims so far.  It needed a  _ new tool,  _ the Entity surmised, and drew it closer as the victims grew arrogant in the gateway to the campfire.  

_ Come, Heir.  Do what must be done!  Do not let fresh meat escape!   _

The Heir accepted wordlessly, unresponsive to the praise that whispered in his ears.  The Entity’s own power was behind the strike now, digging in to the leader’s back and sending him sprawling to the ground.   _ Fear starts at the top.   _ It was an insidious thing the Entity cherished, feeling the panic rise and hope sink as the Heir unleashed his fury and the other victims watched, unable to leave.   _ They had to bear witness to the consequences of their actions.   _

_ Only lessons in blood left their mark for the eternity they would be here.   _

The screams echoed as blood flowed to the ground, pooling in a beautiful crimson as the Entity couldn’t keep it’s claws from outstretching above them, awaiting eagerly and impatiently.  The machete dug into flesh and bone itself, the leader trying in vain to free himself and crawl to the safety they had come to know. The Heir did not stop until the leader stopped moving.  One would suffice for now, eager to feast after long days of famine. It could feel the terrified shock at the campfire, silence a welcome change from the loud boisterousness previously due to the victim’s familiarity with the realm’s workings.  The scars on the leader’s back would not heal, it knew, but that was not a bad result in this case. 

Such a harsh lesson would not be soon forgotten, passed on to all newcomers to see in the flesh.  


	111. Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story based off a 3-man game I had.

Quentin got used to the sometimes random calls to trial, making him always tiredly prepared for another game of survival.  He never thought anything of it, even now as the fog crept in with it’s usual chill. It cleared quickly and he found himself in the Red Forest, surrounded by trees and rocks.  He had learned that trials were strange, granting an innate sense of what needed to be done and how the others were doing. There were only three survivors this trial, and when he felt the static rise in the air, he realized it was going to be rough.  

He took a quick deep breath, kneeling to work on the generator he found.  He knew he had to let himself scream at least once, before he did when he needed to stay hidden.  He still hated that the Doctor was capable of forcing them to scream, getting rid of any semblance of stealth in the beginning of a trial.  The heartbeat was getting faster now that he screamed loudly, hoping he could avoid the Killer and stay hidden long enough to slip away. 

There was a small comfort in knowing there were only four generators to do, but if he made a mistake; it would be incredible strain on the other two.  The wave of electricity startled him, sending the shocks through his body and telling the Doctor exactly where he was at the scream. The generator Quentin had been working on was only halfway done, and he cursed at having to leave it.  He broke into a sprint, thankful for Meg teaching him how to run faster in an incredible burst.

He had to, at least, buy time for the other two to work undisturbed.  Pallets and mazes blurred past as he kept running and dodging the Doctor’s swings.  A generator powered on in the distance, fueling Quentin to keep buying time despite the pain of electrical shocks surging through him and the pain of a solid smack from the weapon.  He couldn’t slack or fall behind; not when the others were relying on him. 

Another generator powered on when he felt the sting of the mace cut his back open.  The Doctor didn’t waste any time in carrying him to a hook, clearly annoyed at how long it had taken to finally catch the insomniac.  The hook pierced through his chest, the pain almost familiar. He couldn’t tell who he was with, but the Doctor was heading straight to the figure farther away.  Dwight jogged over and lifted him off the hook carefully, immediately seeing to the wounds.

“Thanks, Dwight.”

“Don’t need to thank me.  We need to get these gens done while he’s on Laurie.”

Quentin nodded, standing when bandages were firmly secured around him.  They split up, Quentin heading back to the gen he was first on. It was Laurie’s turn to keep the Doctor busy, being more thoroughly shocked and caught much faster than Quentin had been.  She went down with a cry, prompting both Dwight and Quentin to move towards the sound. Once the Doctor walked off to patrol the area, Quentin saved Laurie off the hook and healed her quickly with a fierce determination that they’d make it.   _ They had to.   _

The Doctor chased after Quentin, furious at the loss of his victim.  Laurie caught up with Dwight, forming a plan as Quentin was hooked again and struggling against the Entity.  This was  _ bad,  _ and the last thing he wanted was to drag Laurie and Dwight down too.  

He nodded in thanks to Laurie as she got him off the hook and patched him up, aware of how gentle she was despite the stress of shock-induced madness and survival.

“Stay safe, Quen.”

“I’m okay, Laurie.  We need to finish these gens as soon as we can and get out.”

Laurie smiled softly at him before gently patting his shoulder and moving to a generator.  Dwight cried out in pain, putting as much distance as he could between them. Quentin got his generator done, attention darting to where Dwight went down.  His first thought was to get close and help, but he knew if he was caught, he was dead. He instead started looting a chest to get a medkit, watching Dwight free himself from the Killer’s grip using the same trick Laurie used time and time again.  

Quentin wasn’t sure if the Doctor lost track of the leader, or if the threat of the last generator getting done was far more pressing.  Either way, Dwight needed help, and Quentin wasn’t going to leave him. He crept quickly and quietly, making sure that the Doctor wasn’t looming over his shoulder.  The white coat caught his eyes, making him duck for cover. 

_ You can do this.   _ Laurie could heal Dwight while the Doctor wasted time trying to find him.  Quentin knew it was better to hide rather than run, the Doctor hadn’t seen him yet and he could tolerate the ambient static.  Getting into a locker would be obvious, and he couldn’t risk being found and caught so easily. Glowing eyes rounded the corner and focused on him, making him get up and run.   _ Shit!   _ He expected the mace to rip through his back again when the Doctor caught up, instead hearing Laurie’s scream of pain.  

“Laurie!”

“Run, Quen!”

He hated the idea of leaving her behind, yet she was gladly taking the Doctor off him and keeping him from death for now.  He slowed himself to a walk when the heartbeat was too far for him to hear, letting out a sigh.  _ How long has this trial been anyway?   _ Every passing moment only increased the risk they would all die, made difficult by the Doctor keeping a close eye on the generators left unfinished.

“Quentin, you okay?”

Dwight’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts and back to reality.  He nodded briefly, still moving in search of a generator to do. 

“I’m fine.  We need to get out of here.”

Dwight waved Quentin to follow, finding a sparking generator that had been brutally damaged.  Both of them started to work on it, getting it over halfway done when Laurie screamed again. Dwight’s hand on Quentin’s shoulder stopped the insomniac from getting up.  

“Finish this and get a gate open, I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

The concerned tone wasn’t lost on Quentin.  He was well aware of how the leader was doing everything he could to keep everyone safe.  As Dwight ran off, Quentin’s focus was on the generator with a small, weary grin. He got it finished as Laurie was saved from the hook, racing to the nearest gate.  

“Come on, come on, open already!”

He whispered to himself, wincing at Laurie’s scream again.  The Doctor was desperate for at least one kill, and Dwight knew it.  He wasn’t about to let Laurie get sacrificed, at least not when he knew he could give her enough time to free herself by blocking the Doctor’s path.  He braced himself for the hit, feeling it sear into his shoulder. Laurie had managed to stab the Doctor’s and make him drop her, running for the now open gate.  

“Let’s go, hurry!”

Dwight urged her forward, keeping himself between the Doctor and her.  He could still be put on a hook, and if he had to die to make sure they lived, that was fine, too.  Quentin stayed ready at the gate, running back to the woods to cover their escape. Dwight felt the weapon slice at his back, downing him right at the gate itself.  Quentin grabbed Dwight from in front of the Doctor, rushing to the fog. 

“Come on!”

The Doctor backed up, accepting his defeat as the three disappeared into the fog.  Quentin held one arm around Dwight’s waist and the other keeping hold of his arm in a support carry.  The light of the campfire was a welcome relief, allowing the events of the trial to sink in. Laurie wrapped her arms tightly around both of them, laughing tiredly.  

“We did it, as a team.”

Quentin nodded once, letting out a sigh.  

“That was pretty cool.”

“It was, but… let’s not do that again.”  

Quentin and Laurie laughed, adjusting to sit by the fire.  Quentin took care of Dwight’s wounds while Laurie patched herself up.  Laurie made sure to take care of Quentin next, exhaustion quickly setting in for the three of them.  Dwight let his head rest against the log, Quentin and Laurie against him on either side as they all dozed off.  


	112. Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nea shares some tricks with Feng.

Nea didn’t often put herself into the middle of conversations like David, Kate, or Meg were eager to do.  She preferred to lurk on the edges, listening in on conversations but never joining them herself. It wasn’t about not liking people, she was simply a lot quieter than the others and never made friends that weren’t about what havoc they could cause.  Her old friends didn’t care about her, not personally enough to dissuade her from risking her life on a dare, but these people did. It was strange.

Yet, she always strove to show she appreciated it without saying it.  Words were not her strong suit with emotions, but there was always something she could do instead to show that she cared.  She was trying to find Feng, hoping to thank her for saving her life last trial. The competitor had to be around here somewhere, and Nea was determined to find her.  

Feng was busy looking through a toolbox, trying to find additional tools to add for extra use during trials.   _ She has to go through a lot of those.   _ An idea formed now in Nea’s head, making sure her steps were louder so she didn’t scare Feng.

“Doing okay over there?”

Nea spoke first, meeting Feng’s tired gaze.  

“No, I’m not.  I’m almost out of add-ons for this thing, and this is my favorite toolbox!”

Nea tilted her head, looking over the dwindling stash Feng kept.  

“I can teach you to use those better.”

_ That came out wrong.   _ Feng’s eyes narrowed.  

“I know how to use these, Nea, I’m not dumb.”

Nea shook her head.  

“No, I mean, better.  Like, making them last longer.  I know a few tricks to keep things useful.”

Feng seemed far more interested now, watching Nea take a seat next to her.  

“Alright then, how do you do it?”

Nea grinned, taking the toolbox and a wrench out of it.  

“You hold these too tightly and turn too hard, if you hold it like this, they last longer.  At least, they do here.”

Feng watched carefully, then looked up to Nea when she finished explaining and demonstrating.  

“How’d you learn this stuff in the first place?”

“I’m used to making stuff last as long as possible.  Can’t always get new graffiti cans when the cops want you in a cell.”

Feng couldn’t help a laugh.

“Yeah, that does make it kinda tricky, huh?  Any cool stories about what you did before?”

Nea shrugged.  

“A few, if you really wanna hear them.”

“Duh, of course I do!  Coolest shit you’ve done?”

Nea smiled, settling in to recall her brushes with cops and the fond memories she still cherished.


	113. Ego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight paid the price for the survivor's ego, and Jake feels guilt over it.

Jake felt _ horrible _ , guilt eating at his heart.  Dwight’s death was their fault, too, they all knew.  They had gotten incredibly arrogant with how well they had been doing at this newfound game, and were forced to watch the leader of their group die horribly in front of them as punishment.  There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, making the campfire incredibly silent when Dwight finally walked back towards it. There wasn’t anything that anyone could think to say, and it was starting to drive Meg insane.  He could tell, by the way she bounced her leg and constantly looked around. 

“I’m going to go see if I can gather more herbs…  Meg, do you want to come with me?”

Claudette stood and looked over to the athlete, who bounced to her feet in an instant. 

“Yeah, let’s go!”

Meg was more than eager to race into the woods, Claudette rushing to catch up.  That left him and Dwight at the campfire, scars on Dwight’s back still present and making Jake’s stomach twist.  He took a deep breath, scooting closer to Dwight. 

“Hey.”

Dwight looked up from his feet, glancing over to Jake with a small, forced smile. 

“Hey Jake, how are you doing?”

Jake hummed in response.  Talking was not yet a thing he was especially used to, and it showed.  Especially when he had to put aside a bruised ego and try to help someone else.  He wasn’t sure of anything and he  _ hated it.  _

“You know, I…  I don’t blame you guys.  None of this is our fault.  Right? I mean, this isn’t some sort of punishment for something we’ve done.  At least, I don’t think so…”

Dwight rambled when he was nervous, Jake noticed.  He took a deep breath, then shook his head.

“No, it’s not.  Still, we shouldn’t get too cocky.  And, I’m sorry you had to be the one to suffer for it.”

They fall into an awkward silence, Dwight not knowing what to say. The scars still hurt, and he knew they would last, but it wasn’t right to be mad at the others.  Not when they all made the same mistake. Jake tapped his hand on his leg, anxious at the situation.  _ Why am I the one talking things out?  Even Meg would be better at this than me.   _

“It’ll be okay.  We know what to do now.”

Jake nodded as he spoke, trying to affirm it in his own mind.  There was still a lot they didn’t know, or had no way of knowing, but they knew better than to be too confident.  Dwight smiled awkwardly, the kind that Jake quickly learned was one of the things Dwight did when he wasn’t sure on what to do.

“Yeah, it’ll be okay.  And… if we find other people, we can make sure they don’t do the same thing.”

Jake nodded, pausing mid-motion to pat Dwight’s back.  It would still hurt, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt the leader more.  Instead, he got up and lightly pat Dwight’s shoulder.

“Yeah.  We’re a team now, whether we like it or not.”

Dwight watched Jake wander into the forest, clearly needing to straighten his thoughts.  Dwight held his hands tightly together, ignoring the pain in his back and staring into the fire.  


	114. Unearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble about Quentin and Trapper.

Quentin knew he was sometimes too curious for his own good.  Yet, if there was something he could learn that would allow him to better help his team, he’d always take that opportunity.  That was how he ended up at the Macmillan Estate, trying to find any clue that might let him reason with the Killer. He had no sympathy or care for the ones that were glad to be here and torture their victims, yet he refused to judge them before knowing the truth.  He had to know, to see if he could reach out and try to help. 

He knew he had to be careful.  The Trapper was a diligent Killer, and there was no way he’d take kindly to seeing any intruders on his own lands.  The Estate was colossal, although he knew that shouldn’t come as any sort of surprise. No hooks, no generators, yet the eerie sounds of the woods seemed to echo across the land.  It was the sound of twigs snapping that signalled him to hide behind a boulder and pray his blue clothes blended in. 

“Shut  _ UP, ARCHIE!”  _

The roar silenced everything else, sending a shiver up Quentin's spine.  The Trapper wasted no time in storming inside the foundry and heading up to the overlooking room.  Quentin followed carefully, staying out of sight. He could tell the Trapper had stopped, but couldn't figure out why.  He crept out from the corner, watching the Trapper slowly turn his head over his shoulder. 

“Come here again and I'll rip your head from your body, boy.” 

Quentin's heart sank to his stomach.   _ How did he know I was here? _

“Go, before I lose my  _ patience.” _

Quentin swallowed, turning to run from the estate.  The Entity had to be involved, there was no other way he could've been found so easily.  There were more secrets to unearth, and this was only a minor setback.


	115. Grand Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate's grand finale with her guitar in the realm.

Kate wasn’t sure how, but the Entity had given her a guitar just like the one that got left behind when she was originally taken to this hellish realm.  It was a relief, both to herself and to the other survivors. She could sing to her heart’s content and help lift up the other survivor’s spirits. Seeing people that had quickly become important to her be so distraught was a physical pain in her chest, and she felt better now that she could do so much  _ more  _ about it.  

She hadn’t entirely meant to take her guitar into a trial with her, getting used to having it around her at all times.  She only noticed it was slung around her back when the neck bumped into the doorway to the Killer Shack.  _ Would the Entity even let me bring it back to the fire?   _ Sudden fear surged, she couldn’t let that happen.  Her guitar was far too important to her. 

She focused on generators while the others kept the Killer busy and worked on other generators and totems.  Things were going well, she had managed to avoid even being spotted by Leatherface. Meg was especially adept in keeping him busy, giving them the time to get all the generators done with no deaths just yet.  That fact only served to enrage Leatherface more, losing the athlete in the burst of speed when the sirens rang out to signal the doors being powered. She hid by one of the doors and waited, not wanting to be caught and have her guitar smashed by the hammer.  

Quentin was opening the gate, determined to get it before the Killer came by.  He was always faster at getting them open, and while Kate could never understand it personally she was grateful for it.  The metal screeched as it opened, just as she heard the quickening heartbeat that signalled the Killer’s presence. His chainsaw was  _ fast,  _ tearing into Quentin’s back.  She turned the corner to hopefully sneak past, wincing when she saw the hammer connect to Quentin’s skull.  

Guitar be damned, her friend was far more important.  She’d find a way to make do without it. 

With a shout, she took the guitar off her back and swung it like a baseball bat at Leatherface’s head.  He roared in agony, the guitar splintering with a discordant mix of notes. She took hold of Quentin’s arm and ran for freedom, not stopping until she was back at the campfire.  Meg and Adam were close behind, catching their breath. 

“You alright, hun?”

Her concern was on Quentin, who gave a nod.  He was more than likely disoriented still, and she couldn’t blame him.  Meg seemed amped up and ready for another trial still. 

“Holy  _ shit _ Kate, that was awesome!”

“What are ya talkin’ about, darlin’?”

“You just bashed Leatherface right in  _ his  _ dumb face!”

She couldn’t help an awkward laugh.  It wasn’t meant to be cool or flashy, it was a move of desperation to protect her friend.  

“It was nothin’, sweetheart.”

Meg laughed loudly, despite the hand on her shoulder from Adam to try and get her to calm down.  

“Nothing?  That was so fucking  _ cool!”   _

“Let’s let Quentin rest, Meg.”  

Adam stepped in again, voice gentle and making it clear he was very used to high energy people.  Quentin quietly sat by the fire, eyes half-closed. Kate sat next to him, rubbing his back and keeping her voice soft.  

“You sure you’re alright, hun?”

Quentin nodded again.  

“Yeah, just my head.  I’ll be okay.” 

Kate nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.  Even if she never got her guitar back, it was one hell of a finale for it.  


	116. Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael watches Quentin.

Quentin was a determined person, Michael found.  Every chance he took to try and talk to the insomniac was met with failure, time and time again in and out of trials.  It was starting to get irritating, but Michael was patient. They had an eternity, after all, and he was going to spend that however he so chose.  He could watch and observe, only interrupted by the call to a trial and the satiating of the urges to kill. 

For now, he simply observed.  Quentin hardly ever strayed from the fire, and Michael was waiting for him to come back from a trial and find safety in the soft light.  He keenly watched the others of the trial come back, yet Quentin hadn’t yet.  _ Odd.   _ He wasn’t sure how much time passed when he started moving, knowing now something was off.  Quentin couldn’t be far. 

The thickening fog was Michael’s indication that he was getting to the right spot.  Krueger was a determined killer, yet still managed to entirely grate on Michael’s nerves.  The unnatural mist dissipated as he stepped closer, meaning that Krueger at least remembered their last encounter with one another.   _ At least he has a brain in his skull.  _

Now was the mission of finding Quentin.  He was surely around somewhere, he had to be if Freddy had been around.  The woods were a sprawling mess, with tangled undergrowth that dutifully moved aside for his footsteps, but that could still mean Quentin was hiding amongst them.  The normal rules of a trial didn’t apply, either, there were no obvious blood trails to follow. If there was even any blood at all. 

He gripped the handle of his knife in annoyance rather than any murderous intent, irritated at being so close yet still so distant from his goal.  He stood in place, carefully analyzing the surroundings. He knew he had to be in the right area, but there was a small, minor detail he was missing.  There  _ had  _ to be.  

The rustle of a leaf caught his attention.  No time was wasted in rushing over, bushes pushed aside to reveal Quentin barely awake, struggling to stay focused and conscious.  The silence in the air lingered, until Quentin managed to speak up. 

“Just kill me if you’re going to.”

Michael simply tilted his head.  It was obvious that Quentin was defensive, more than likely caught before making it back to the fire by the demon.  How long that had been, Michael couldn’t be sure. Time had turned more into a blur, but the specifics rarely mattered.  When he extended his hand to help Quentin to his feet, Quentin flinched.  _ Unsurprising.   _

Quentin blinked his eyes open when he didn’t feel the sharp sting of a knife.  Michael was waiting for him to… take his hand? He was skeptical, that  _ couldn’t  _ end well.  He scooted backwards into the undergrowth, carefully keeping an eye on the masked Killer that stood upright at the motion.  He had no idea what Michael was thinking, and being watched so carefully made him uneasy. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

Not even the slightest response.  Quentin sighed, struggling more and more to keep his eyes open.  Michael didn’t miss the detail at all, instead turning to look over the rest of the woods.  Quentin leaned against the tree and dozed off, vaguely aware that Michael was keeping an eye out for him  _ for some reason. _  Michael didn’t move an inch, standing still as a statue.  If Quentin wouldn’t move, neither would he. 


	117. Gentle Giant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mermaid!AU with the meme team Quentin and Feng.

Feng raced through the clear water, well aware of the pod of dolphins closing in.  She could outpace them easily, being far faster than them, but she was one against  _ who knew how many.   _ They would undoubtedly try to surround her and give her no place to escape to.  The natural sea life wasn’t particularly caring if she was a mermaid or not; food was still food.  She at least recognized their different calls, but wasn’t able to determine what they meant. She bit her lip when she raced past one only to run into another, feeling the sharp teeth scrape at her tail.  

Blood in the water would attract more predators, and there was no way she could fight them all off.  She didn’t expect it to take so  _ little time _ , seeing a much larger mermaid rise up from the depths.  She was  _ incredibly  _ small compared to him, yet instead of teeth sinking into her scales, the other mermaid put himself between her hunters.  His size alone was enough to dissuade them, and she watched the dolphins turn and take off in the other direction. 

“Are you okay?”

The other mermaid, who looked and sounded  _ surprisingly  _ young, turned to her now.  

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  

He tilted his head slightly, breaths naturally deep.  It was hard for Feng to not notice when she was just as big as his arm.  

“Are you sure?  You’re bleeding, I can help take care of that.”  

She narrowed her eyes at him.  He was absolutely determined to help her, for some reason she couldn’t figure out.  

“Fine.  What’s your name?”

“Quentin.  What’s yours?”

She debated lying, making something up and rushing off as soon as she could to never see him again for all her life.  She wasn’t sure how long it would take for her bite wounds to heal, and she’d rather not deal with trying to come up with lie after lie. 

“Feng.”

His smile was genuine, that much she could tell.  He almost seemed… tired? As if he wasn’t sleeping as much as he should.  That was an understandable sentiment, it wasn’t too rare that she gave up sleeping in order to hunt and claim kills that were well worth it.  She held onto his shoulder and let him guide her deeper into the ocean. 


	118. Willpower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Quentin share a moment alongside some feathered friends.

Jake was tired.  Trial after trial tended to do that, and he only now got a break from the routine of high stress survival and keeping an alert eye out for danger.  It did wonders to simply be able to sit back and relax, not too different from a cat dozing off. He still was listening for danger, but for now he’d rest and only be alarmed if he heard something that warranted concern.  Slow and steady breaths never startled the crows that liked to watch them, and more often than not he’d open his eyes to find some happily nestled on his lap. 

The sudden rustling of leaves made his eyes snap open and look around quickly, doing his best not to disturb the nest of crows on his lap.  The footsteps were lighter, meaning it wasn’t one of the Killers easily able to pick him up and hurt him if they so chose, yet the Hag was still a very real threat.   _ No, the footsteps are too even.   _ The Hag always walked irregularly.  It could be the Pig, but she was walking too close if she wanted to ambush.  It was all too unnecessary. 

He blinked in surprise when Quentin walked out, wordlessly sitting next to him.  The insomniac was always tired, but now it was especially prevalent. He had the sudden realization that he should say something, but  _ what? _

“You look tired.”

Quentin hummed in response.  Whatever was bothering him was severe, Jake knew, but he wasn’t exactly the best with people.  He took a deep breath, his eyes settling on the sleeping crows. He carefully picked one up and handed it over to Quentin, who looked over in confusion.

“Something’s bothering you.  Here.”

Quentin blinked rapidly, gently taking the crow and cradling it against his chest.  The small smile on Quentin’s face was enough to warm Jake’s heart and reassure him that he had done something right.  

“Thanks, Jake.”  

“Don’t mention it.”  

Jake settled back to dozing off, keenly aware of Quentin’s quiet cooing at the small bird in his hands.  It was incredibly endearing, giving the impression that Quentin hadn’t had many pets at all.  _ Shame he won’t get a proper pet anytime soon.   _ He mentally reprimanded himself; he couldn’t think like that.  They would get out of his hell, even if it took them years. 

He wouldn’t give up on it.  


	119. Mop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nea and Quentin get to talk!

Quentin was one of the few survivors that, for whatever reason, tended to be overlooked when it came to getting new clothes.  He wasn’t sure  _ why _ , they didn’t need to really wash their clothes but it was nice to, and there was hardly any reasoning for doing so.  Yet, when he noticed how happy the others were about it, it made more sense. The Entity didn’t want them entirely dejected, and new things were always a nice gift.  He let out a sigh, always waiting for when he’d get something new. 

He didn’t mind so much, as long as his newfound friends were happy.  It was good to see them show off their new jackets or hats and be beyond excited, an emotion that was rare to see in the Entity’s Realm.  He didn’t mind how happy they were, especially with how Feng opened up more. It was well worth it if it meant he’d never get newer clothes, his beanie worked just fine for when he wanted to wear something different.  

Both Jake and Nea had beanies, too, and it was a silly thing to find something sweet about that, but he did.  Jake was an incredibly calming presence to be around, not needing to talk to bring some relief from the nightmares that haunted him day in and day out and kept him in a constant state of tired alertness.  Nea was… interesting, to say the least. 

He didn’t know her well, besides the dare she took to burn down the asylum and the number of times she’s successfully evaded the cops.  They were two  _ entirely  _ different people, he figured.  He nearly ran into her when he turned around, blinking.  

“Shit, sorry.”  

Nea shook her head.  

“Don’t sweat it.  You good there, mophead?”

_...Mophead?   _

“Yeah, I’m good.  Where… did mophead come from?”

“Your hair’s always messy, like a mophead.  You wear that beanie all the damn time.”

He blinked.   _ Was she insulting him?   _

“It’s not a bad thing, you know.  Jake thinks it’s cute.”

“He does?”

“Yeah, you’ve never seen the way he’ll stare at you like he’s thinkin’ real hard about something?”

Quentin shook his head.  Nea couldn’t help crossing her arms and laughing.  

“You’ll notice now that I’ve mentioned it.”

She walked off without another word, heading into the woods with a toolbox to undoubtedly try and get on the Entity’s nerves again.  

She was interesting.


	120. Thicker Than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie and Quentin share sentiments about their lives.

Quentin sat by the fire with his legs crossed, hands resting in his lap.  He had time now to simply rest, to not worry about trials and all of the things he could have done differently.  It did, however, open up his time to think about other worries. He couldn’t always stop himself from wondering what exactly it was that got him here.  Part of him simply wanted to sleep to keep himself from thinking about it, yet sleep was a luxury he was not at all used to letting himself have. 

Laurie had just gotten back from a particularly rough trial against Michael, opting to sit next to Quentin by the fire.  She could tell there was something heavy on his mind, too, and didn’t want him suffering alone. The gentle tap on his shoulder got his attention, making him look up in surprise.  

“Oh, Laurie.  I didn’t hear you walk up.”

The surprise gave way to a small smile that made Laurie smile in return.  

“It’s okay, I was pretty quiet.  You seem tired.”

“That’s not out of the ordinary for me, you know.”

Laurie couldn’t help laughing quietly, shaking her head.  

“I mean in a different way, Quen.”

Quentin nodded quietly, turning his attention from her to the fire.  The sudden solemnity was unsurprising, they were both some of the youngest survivors and had been through their fair share of struggles.  

“It’s not fair, Laurie.”

She blinked, tilting her head slightly.  He would undoubtedly elaborate, but for now she simply thought about what he meant.  

“We didn’t do anything to deserve anything like this, here or back home.  People who were supposed to be there for us… weren’t. And they’re the reason we’ve had to fight for our lives.  It’s not fair, and this is what we get for it.”

Laurie nodded in response, able to keenly see the anger bubbling to the surface in Quentin based off how his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched.  

“I know, Quen.  We-”

“We didn’t even get to graduate, for fuck’s sake.”

She fell quiet again, unable to deny the growing pit of resentment.  They were still high school students at heart. 

“I want to kill him.”  

Laurie looked up to Quentin again, knowing what he meant.  She gently put her hand on Quentin’s back and started rubbing gently.

“You know we can’t here.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t fight back at every chance we get.”

Quentin looked over to Laurie, still bitter.  

“Do you ever think about killing him?”

_ Killing Michael.   _ She nodded once; the thought crossed her mind now and then.  She had tried before, in order to defend herself, but it didn’t work and he had vanished without a trace.  

“Sorry, I know that’s harsh to think about.”

Quentin shook his head, letting out a sigh.  Laurie scooted closer to sit next to him, hand moving from his back to his shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze.  

“Don’t worry about it.  We can handle anything together.  We’ll find a way to go back to our lives, like we’ve missed.”  

Quentin took a deep breath, head settling against Laurie’s shoulder as he finally dozed off.  Laurie sat perfectly still, not wanting to disturb him and the serene comfort between them. 


	121. Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Quentin x Reader! (I will note that x reader fics will be heavily dependent on how much I wish to do them, and will be a bit more discussing if you want to see one done.)

(y/n) was new to the campfire, yet their presence was already made extremely clear.  Bright and loud like a beacon, (y/n) was one of the survivors that adapted quickly. Quentin was appreciative of their help, always picking up the slack he left in the wake of exhaustion.  He was content now to sit by the fireside and rest, letting the others explore around the woods with the arrival of the strange blighted thorns sprawling the woods. 

The blooms made him uneasy, and he couldn’t explain why.  He was glad the others didn’t question it at all, allowing him to stay as close to the campfire as he wanted.  The light of it was always a comfort, being a signal of safety. He didn’t hear (y/n) walk close until they cleared their throat.  He turned to look in an instant, calming down when he realized who it was. 

“Sorry, didn’t hear you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.  How are you doing?”

He gave a small smile as (y/n) sat down next to him.  

“I’m okay.  This’ll be over soon anyway, right?”

They nodded, trying to give a reassuring smile.  

“I think so.  Besides, you’ll be safe here at the fire, and I’ll always have your back.”  

Quentin nodded once, letting his eyes close.  There was no denying he felt safe, leaning into (y/n)’s touch when their arm wrapped around his back.  

“You don’t mind staying here while there are still blooms to investigate?”

They shook their head.  

“Course I don’t mind.  You’re more important than some dumb flowers.”  

He smiled, leaning his head on their shoulder.  

“Thanks, (y/n).”  

“Don’t mention it, Quen.”  

He was more than happy to doze off and bask in the warmth of the closeness, unplagued by any nightmares.  


	122. All's Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nea plays dirty against Feng, but all's fair in love and war, isn't it?

“You’ve never had to climb a tree to run from the cops?”

Nea was happy sitting amongst the leaves of a tree branch.  Feng could only glare up at her, arms crossed. 

“No?  I played video games for a living, you think I needed to run from the cops?”

“I don’t know, I thought you would’ve lived a little.  Unless you’re too  _ scared. _ ”

Feng narrowed her eyes further.

“I’m not scared of anything.”  

Nea lounged back in the trees.  

“Then why aren’t you up here with me?”

Feng huffed, letting silence settle as Nea stared down far too much like a smug cat.  

“Just you wait, asshole, I’m coming up there.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you, Nea, I’m gonna win.”

Nea smirked, in a way that made Feng sure she had a response, but was waiting for the right moment to say it.  Feng started climbing, using rough patches of bark to get a foothold. 

“I wish you’d fuck me.”

Feng had to do a double take, grip slipping on the tree branch and making her yelp.  She landed firmly on her butt, groaning in pain. 

“You  _ cheater!   _ That’s not fair!”

“Isn’t there a saying about that?  All’s fair in love and war?” 

Feng growled, earning a laugh from Nea.  

“Oh, it’s war now,  _ motherfucker. _ ”  

“You’ll have to catch me first, Feng.”  

“Don’t doubt me.”


	123. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nea dares Jake to kiss a certain scrapper.

Jake hadn’t even been sure of where the alcohol had come from.  He did know it was  _ strong _ , and after just one he was very keenly feeling tipsy.  Claudette, the walking saint she is, opted not to alongside Quentin and Laurie, instead making sure the ones drunk off their ass didn’t hurt themselves too much.  With David, Jake knew, it was only a matter of time before he got the itch to do something reckless. 

Jake couldn’t remember whose idea it was to play truth or dare.  No one could, he assumed, but deep down he knew it was Nea and now they were playing now with an empty bottle and Claudette watching not far off, teaching Laurie and Quentin how to weave grass together to make bracelets, crowns, and other kinds of floral decoration.  It was enough of a distraction from Nea’s smug grin, especially when it landed on him. 

“Alright, bird boy, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

The chorus of ooo’s confirmed his decision.  He wasn’t someone who backed down from a challenge on his pride,  _ certainly _ not now, not even with the all-too-proud cheshire grin on Nea’s face.  Of course she knew how he felt. He and Nea always shared a strange bond together that seemed to last through anything.  He both loved and hated it. 

“I dare you to kiss King, and make it a good one.  None of that pussy-ass two second shit.”

He rolled his eyes at the uproar of laughter, looking over to David.  Of course the man wasn’t bothered; he had probably been dared to do much worse.  Jake took a deep breath, composing himself as much as he could before he stood to walk over.  

“Get up, David.”  

“Fuck nah, mate!  You come down to earth, yeah?”

He couldn’t explain why that made this dare all the more fun.  He was an expert at keeping his expression neutral, face not shifting at all when he lifted David to his feet by the collar of his shirt and kissed him, his lips pressed against the englishman’s.  It felt like an eternity before he stepped back, stunned silence from the others making the moment all the more surreal. 

“Holy  _ shit!   _ You actually did it!”

Meg was the first to break the silence, unsurprisingly, and paved the way for the others to break into a symphony of cheering and clapping.  Jake’s cheeks were quickly flushed red, turning to head back to his spot. 

“Fuck no you don’t, get back here!”

David’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back and making him gasp in surprise.  

“Can’t just give me a tease like that and not deliver, mate!”

Nea was on the verge of tears laughing.  

“Go fuck in the woods, don’t do it here!”

As he was lifted over David’s shoulders, Jake decided this was one of the moments he hated Nea.  


	124. Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace makes a bet with Bill.

“How much would you wanna bet that I can make you flustered?”

Bill slowly turned his attention over to Ace, glaring at the cheeky, lopsided grin.  

“Just cut the horseshit and tell me you want my attention.”  

Ace whined, letting himself fall back to lay on the ground instead of sitting by the campfire.  

“That’s  _ boooooring. _ ”  

Bill could only sigh, taking a drag from his cigarette and staring beyond the fire.  Part of him still hoped that if he ignored Ace enough, the gambler would give up and find someone else to pester, but it never worked.  The other part of him was almost glad for it. 

“Come on, Bill.  At least put an effort in?”

Bill groaned.  

“Fine.  I’d bet my utility flashlight that you can’t.”

“Oooh, high stakes.  I like it.” 

“If you lose, you keep your mouth shut for an hour.”

Ace sat up quickly, looking over to Bill in an instant.  

“That’s not fair!”

“Don’t make bets you can’t win, then.”

Ace huffed, crossing his arms in a pout.  

“You are ninety-five percent of my impulse control, you can’t tell me things like that.”

Bill couldn’t help another, annoyed sigh.  He didn’t bother saying anything, instead letting Ace squirm in silence.  It didn't take long for Ace to get annoyed by it, scooting closer and closer as if Bill couldn't see him.

“Ace, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“Getting your attention.”

Bill rolled his eyes as Ace scooted closer, head resting on Bill's shoulder.  

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“You really want that damn flashlight, huh?”

“That's not the only thing I want.” 

Ace grinned smugly, leaving Bill to shake his head.  

“Shut yer goddamn mouth.”

“Embarrassed?” 

“No.”

“Hmm, a shame.  Guess I lost.” 

Bill raised an eyebrow at that.  Ace Visconti was not a man who typically liked losing.  The moment Ace relaxed against him and started dozing off, Bill realized what the intention was.  It at least got him some comfortable peace and the ability to hide slightly flushed cheeks, all while not catching the cheeky grin on Ace’s face.  


	125. Chirp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight follows the sound of chirping to the resident bird boy.

Jake was a surprisingly light sleeper, Dwight noticed.  He wasn’t sure why he didn’t expect it, just that he didn’t and it often resulted in him waking Jake up by accident.  He never seemed to be particularly tired each time, but that didn’t stop Dwight from feeling guilty and apologizing. The few times Dwight hadn’t woken Jake up at some point were usually when he was with a small crow or he had been especially careful.  Jake did also have a tendency of being out of sight when he slept, so Dwight wasn’t usually certain if Jake was even around or not. 

Dwight was getting better with the local fauna, thanks to Jake.  It was as close as he got to having a pet, some sort of animal companion that always understood and would never give him a snippy remark back.  And the wordless songs of the crows could be surprisingly uplifting; although Jake had said that was Kate’s doing. Not that he minded that fact.

He had just come back from a trial when he heard the soft chirpy songs of a few crows he had started to get used to.  They were the smallest of the bunch, the misfits that the other birds didn’t seem to pay much attention to. He was keen on following the sound of them, worried that something was wrong and they needed his attention at this very moment.  He still made sure to move quietly, just in case he walked into a delicate situation. 

When he cleared the undergrowth, he didn’t expect the scene before him.  Jake asleep, arms filled with crows that were in some way, injured; from their wings to tail feathers to their feet.  The spies of the Entity sometimes ended up injured, for whatever reason, but they all knew Jake wouldn’t stand to leave them to suffer.  Dwight’s entourage of birds seemed to want him here, and Dwight was more than happy to oblige and sit in front of Jake.

He seemed so peaceful sleeping, compared to the quiet alertness that he always walked with.  It made sense for Jake to be as wary as he was, after living on his own in the woods far before this, but it still made Dwight wish it didn’t have to be the case.  Especially seeing the other so peaceful and calm now. It was moments like this that really drove Dwight to trying as hard as he did for the others’ sake. If he could even just find the smallest crack that would lead to escape, it would be worth it to keep experiencing moments like this.  

He yawned, scooting over to lean against the tree next to Jake.   _ Must be real tired if he hasn’t woken up yet.   _ He couldn’t help the small smile growing on his face, barely aware of the smallest of his bunch of crows nestling up on his lap.  He had named this one Munchkin, and Munchkin loved to cuddle. 

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, especially with the soft chirping of the crows around him.  His head leaned against Jake’s shoulder, and the two slept the most soundly they had in awhile. 


	126. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake has an interesting time with the Huntress.

This was a bad situation, and Jake only had himself to blame.  Every now and then, his curiosity would get the best of him, and landed him in situations like this, where he was trying to hide under a table in the Huntress’ cabin.  Outside of trials, things were largely left up in the air as to how they went. The Entity gladly turned a blind eye to finer details, so long as it got what it truly wanted.  And it was more than happy to turn a blind eye now to Jake’s predicament. 

She had a habit of humming even outside of trials, he found, but the haunting weight wasn’t on him this time.  It was more the pain of being on his hands and knees so long, watching carefully for her movement. She was doing something at the table now, but he couldn’t quite tell what.   _ What a time for her to come back home.   _

She was chopping something- maybe wood?- on this table, and Jake could feel every slam of an ax down onto the surface.  Staying still and silent is his best bet. At least until the sound of something heavy slams into the ground, and then is quickly kicked into his side and forcing him to yelp in pain and surprise.  

_ Shit.   _

If she hadn’t known he was here before, she definitely knew now, as evidenced by the way her humming suddenly stopped.  He scrambled to move as she bent down to check, almost getting out from underneath the table when she grabbed his ankle and yanked him back towards her.  He tried grabbing onto the floorboards, anything to make it harder for him to be pulled from his relative safety. Yet, it’s all in vain at the Huntress’ superior strength.  

“Little Raven?”

She kept up that nickname for him, for some reason.  He couldn’t quite understand why. 

“Why hide, Little Raven?”

He turns over to face her, propping himself up with his arms.   _ Was she expecting a genuine answer?   _ He could only shrug.  She tilted her head and started humming again, picking him up without much trouble.  

“No need, Little Raven.  Anna is here, nothing will hurt you.”  

The words struck him as things meant to be comforting, something that would be said to a scared child.   _ I’m not scared.   _ She’s easily carrying him up to her room, setting him down on a well crafted, handmade chair.  He can easily tell, with how often he’s made his own things. On the wall he can see several masks, and even a  _ bear skull _ proudly displayed.  Yet, he watches as she doesn’t look over any of them, instead going for a small stand on a small table.  

“What… are you doing?”  

“No need to fear, Little Raven.  Will not hurt you. Nothing will.”  

He was most definitely afraid.  How would she even manage that? He saw what was in her hands when she turned around: a black bracelet, looking like weaved raven feathers and a raven’s head at the very center.  

“Gift.”  

It was clear that it was for him.  She  _ did _ call him a raven.  He carefully took the bracelet, looking over it and every fine detail.  She seemed overjoyed even at his hesitance, with how he took the time to examine it.  It stretched just enough to put it on, but then firmly closed around his wrist. Even tugging it didn’t result in any leeway to get it off again.   _ Uh oh.   _

“Keep you safe, outside trials, from the others.”  

_ Ah.   _ That was an important distinction.  Before he could ask more, she pressed her forehead against his.  

“Now go back.  Does not like long absences.”  

He figured she was referring to the Entity now, stepping back and nodding.  He doesn’t say anything else as he leaves the cabin and heads back to the campfire, hiding the bracelet under his sleeve.  The others don’t need to know about it just yet, not until he figures out what this means. 


	127. Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is concerned when Laurie learns something new.

Laurie was never particularly afraid of heights.  There was little she could be afraid of after the ordeal she had with her brother, if she was speaking honestly.  So, when Nea suggested that she learn ‘parkour’, Laurie had decided to agree. The worst that could happen is that she could fall weirdly and hurt something, but she had felt the distinct pain of death too many times to be too fazed by it.  Nea was, admittedly, not the  _ best _ teacher, but Laurie was patient and listened well.  

She was glad to try it out in a trial.  The red forest provided plenty of tall, climbable trees; even if the Entity only allowed them to go so high.  But, it still allowed her to climb part of the way up, out of the Killer’s reach barring the Huntress with her hatchets.  She couldn’t help but smile, moving to sit on a tree branch. The forest was a beautiful sight, in comparison to the normal gloom, even with the rolling fog.  

She spotted Michael staring at her from a distance, not taking long to race over.  Undoubtedly, he was concerned, and the idea made her giggle. Even in trials, he was always torn with what to do, and she was sure he was extremely concerned for a multitude of reasons.  She watched as he stood at the base of the tree, simply staring up. 

“I’m not coming down, Michael.”  

A tilt of the head with a particularly loud exhale that she heard even from her perch, clearly asking her why.  

“I like it up here.”  

He trailed his gaze down the tree’s trunk, down to the base of it before looking back up at her.   _ It’s a big fall.   _

“I’m not going to fall.”  

As if on cue, the branch she was using as her perch cracked, making her stand and hug the tree tightly with another branch as a foothold.  She looked down to see Michael up against the tree, as if trying to be ready to catch her. 

“See?  Not falling.”  

He was still concerned, and she could tell that he was desperately trying to convey that to her and urge her to get down.  There was a few seconds of a silent standoff, before she broke the tension. 

“If you go elsewhere, I’ll get down.”  

He tilted his head, then looked around.  He turned to walk away, giving her one last glance before walking off.  She laughed to herself, watching him go and occasionally look back at her.  She waited until he was far enough away, climbing down slowly and going back to the normal trial games.  She’d have to try that again sometime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are enjoying the stories! I love every single comment and they fill me with joy, so thank you for taking the time to comment <3!


	128. Ill-Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big brother Michael protecting his little sister Laurie from nasty boy cooties.

Asking Michael what sort of intent he had behind his actions was a futile case.  He himself hardly ever knew why he did the things he did, let alone what drove him and if he thought they meant well or not.  He simply knew he followed what his impulses urged him to do, even if they made no clear sense. It was how he ended up lurking in the bushes, watching his sister talk to Jake, laugh with him, and how he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  

He wasn’t sure why Jake was there, but he had seen these actions before, with the boys that were interested in his sister in another sense.   _ No, cannot stand.   _ He wasn’t sure why, but it couldn’t.  The inner part of himself couldn’t allow it, therefore it couldn’t be.  When Jake stood to walk off into the woods, Michael was quick to follow.  Jake didn’t even hear him until he was looming behind the survivalist. 

The sudden yelp made Laurie jump up to her feet.  

“Jake?!”

He had gone to check on one of his crows, simply reassuring her that they were going to stick together through this nightmare until the very end.  As determined as she was, there was no denying that it was hard at times. Jake was typically a quiet person, but when he did speak, she remembered the words he used.  She ran into the woods to check on him, now, pausing when she saw Michael standing over him while he had his back pressed against a tree. 

“Michael!”  

He didn’t turn his head.   _ What could have him so fixated now?   _ She jogged to his side, waving to get his attention.  

“Michael, listen to me!  What are you doing?” 

He slowly turned his attention to her, and she could see now he was holding his knife clearly.  She crossed her arms, only able to assume why he was acting this way. 

“Michael, leave Jake alone.  Nothing is happening.” 

He blankly stared, leaving Jake frozen underneath him.  She couldn’t blame her friend, Michael was relatively easy to set off at times.   

“I promise, Michael.  Now leave Jake alone. Please.”  

He stayed motionless for a bit longer, leaving the two to have a silent stare down for at least another minute.  Then, he backed up and started walking away, seemingly satisfied with the response. Laurie sighed, offering her hand to help Jake to his feet.  

“Sorry, Jake.  He was assuming we were on a date, I think.”

Jake took her help up, brushing himself off.  

“Obsessive, much…”  

Laurie couldn’t help but laugh.  

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I should do this, with how often I'm writing stuff!  
> Edit: I also post these over here, and this is also where I take requests when they're open! [here!](https://queenevainewriting.tumblr.com)


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